Eros & Psyche
by RZZMG
Summary: Draco challenges Harry & the Gryfs to play EROS, a scandalous card game. It's Slyth vs. Gryf, pride vs. desire, male vs. female! Who wins the game of hearts & amour? FIC CHALLENGE! HOT SHAGGING. Pairings-DMxHG,GWxBZ,RWxPP,SFxLB,TNxDG,HPxTD. A/U 7th year.
1. Chapter 1: Will You Flinch?

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**This is a FIC CHALLENGE from NEVILLES_GIRL! Here was her criteria:**

_1. Dramione – hot, hot sex – lots of it_

_2. AU, during Seventh Year_

_3. Harry, Ron, Pansy, Blaise & Seamus must also appear_

_4. A contest or bet of some kind must be the main plot_

_5. Characters that can't appear in speaking roles: the Dursleys_

_6. You have to use at least 20 song titles or lyrics in the story somehow_

_7. Lots of angst and romance_

_8. These words must appear: dangle, candle light, sex toys, Save The Queen, Veela, and Quidditch_

_9. I want a scene with a sexy massage, a scene using food in a sexual manner, and a scene with a kiss that leads to love_

_10. Happy ending_

**Okay, let the games begin... literally!**

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**TIMELINE:** June, 1998 (ending date not given as it's a spoiler)

**MAIN CHARACTERS FEATURED (alphabetical order, last name):**Lavender Brown, Tracey Davis, Seamus Finnigan, Hermione Granger, Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Blaise Zabini

**SECONDARY CHARACTERS FEATURED (alphabetical order, last name):** Hestia Carrow, Michael Corner, Astoria Greengrass, Neville Longbottom, Alastor Moody, Parvati Patil

**STORY DETAILS: **Hogwarts-era, 7th Year -Alternate Universe (events after novel #4 never happened; Cedric Diggory didn't die, Harry won the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Voldemort was not resurrected, and there was no war). Years five, six and seven were filled with regular teenage angst stuff for our cast. The Room of Requirement was discovered by the Weasley twins years back, and now all of the students know about it (they keep it a secret from the teachers and Filch, obviously). Quidditch was a bigger deal, too (because it's not like there's anything else major going on), so everyone on team has bulked up for the competition over the years (in other words, those who play are more of an athletic build and less lean/willowy as most wizards would be). Also, for the sake of this fic, all of the main guys featured play Quidditch (even those who didn't in the novels), and Ginny plays Quidditch. Characters are OOC (out-of-character), and I'm taking _serious_ creative license here because it's a smut-fun fic and none of these character hook-ups would happen otherwise. You're forewarned! Card game based upon an idea I had for "_La Cerise: The Sweetest Cherry_" fic, but decided to scrap. At last, I can use it finally! This will be a multi-part fic.

**SUMMARY: **Draco Malfoy and his best Slytherin housemates challenge Harry Potter and his choice of five other Gryffindors to a game of _Eros_– the scandalous card game with strong magical influences on the players. Can the will and courage of a pride of lions overcome the cleverly seductive nest of serpents for the last time, before everyone graduates? It's House versus House, male versus female, pride versus desire, Eros versus Psyche! Turn the first card to find out who will win in this game of hearts and amour…

**RATING: **M+/NC-17 – extreme heterosexual sexual situations (including frottage, fondling, nipple play, fingering, wanking, oral sex, strip tease, sensual/sexual massage, use of sex toys, loss of virginity, anal sex, orgasm denial, spanking/paddling, light bondage, use of food in a sexual manner, exhibitionism, use of mirrors during a sex act, male ejaculation on various female body parts, unprotected sex); references to homosexual & threesome/moresome sexual encounters in the past (implied, not on screen); explicit profanity; gambling; abuse of magic for the purpose of controlling another person; use of magical spells to prevent conception; references to illicit drug and alcohol use in the past (implied, not on screen); implied child abuse in the past (not on screen); OOC (out-of-character characters); references to magical creatures and their mating rituals; occasional fluff, extreme drama, and angst.

**IMAGES for this fanfic **(including what characters look like, their outfits, and the cards themselves) can be found here (remove all spaces from the URL to make it load properly): _s905 . photobucket albums / ac260 / RZZMG / Eros%20Psyche_

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_**EROS & PSYCHE**_

**BY: RZZMG**

* * *

**_CHAPTER ONE: WILL YOU FLINCH?_**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland  
Gryffindor Boys Dorms (Harry Potter's room)  
Wednesday, June 10, 1998 (early evening)_**

Re-reading the note that Malfoy had passed to Harry during Potions class this afternoon, Hermione took a deep breath and slowly let it out, her mind a riot of thoughts over its contents.

**_Eros – Sat. 7pm, RoR  
Pick 3 F, 3 M - 6 & 7 yr. only – must be Gryfs!  
No cherries.  
Too chicken? _**

Godric Save the Queen, was that no-count Ferret serious? He really wanted a six-on-six, evenly gender-mixed game of _Eros & Psyche_ this Saturday night in the Room of Requirement, pitting his Housemates against the Gryffindors?

She snorted in partial amusement, partial incredulity. The blond git was so obvious sometimes! Clearly, Malfoy wanted to get even for losing the Quidditch House Cup this last weekend, their last game of their high school experience. She bet it just ate at the pure-blood, overachieving snob that Harry Potter – a half-blood who did so extraordinarily well in classes _and _out on the Quidditch pitch on mostly sheer talent - had beaten him one final, irrefutable time. Now, he was apparently looking for revenge.

Bloody hell, that meant he'd do anything to win, wouldn't he?

Having intimate knowledge of the Snake's most afflicting moves - she _had_ been on the receiving end of his scathing taunts, cruel looks and occasional hexes more than anyone else in school, after all - she wondered if she could really do this?

_Eros_ was a legendary magical card game that had its origins in the decadently wicked Masked Gentlemen's Clubs of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries in England. The objective was rather simple: you played from the time the first card was turned until the final question card was read, and all turns had come to a close. Whichever team had the most players standing at that point won.

More specifically, the game was played with an even number of participants on two teams, evenly split between genders, and was typically engaged in a location that would remain secret to all except to the currently engaged players. It was comprised of four blank decks - so named _Partners_, _Interrogations_, _Forfeits_, and _Deeds_ - the content of which was determined in advance by the players themselves.

The first deck, _Partners_, was simply a deck made up of the names of all participants in the current game set. These cards were charmed to create a magically binding contract with anyone who signed their name to them; once you accomplished that, you were bound to play the current game set to its completion – much like _Jumanji_ in that way, Hermione thought. The signatory release also bound you to an Oath of Secrecy; in effect, you were gagged from talking about the specifics of what happened in the game with any outsiders.

Once all players had signed their _Partners_ cards, the women put theirs into a pile, which was then shuffled. The men – the _Eros_ component to this whole shenanigan, as he represented the primordial God of Sexual Love - would then take turns drawing a card of his intended _Psyche_, the mythological woman Eros fell in love with. That witch would then remain the man's committed partner throughout the entirety of the game set. Once every player was matched up, they held onto the card of their associated partner, as it assured the connection between the two of them until the completion of the game.

After partners had been determined, each player was then given two blank _Interrogations_ cards that he or she would fill-in with two questions of their choice. They were also given two blank _Forfeit_ cards which he or she would assign a heinous punishment to, and two blank _Deeds_ cards, from which he or she would dispense a delicious reward to balance out the punishment. This was done twenty-four hours in advance of the game's beginning, to give time for players to think up suitable content for their cards.

In the case of the _Interrogations _cards, the questions you made up were required to always start with the phrase, _"If you had to…"_ What you asked after that was entirely up to your deranged, little mind. You wanted to be positive, however, that you would only write down a question that you wouldn't mind answering yourself, out loud, in front of all of the other players. The challenge was therefore to balance out your insane curiosity of the other players' secrets versus your own comfort level in dispensing _your_ confidential information to those same people.

On the night of the actual game, everyone's _Interrogations _cards were put into a single deck and shuffled well. Then, taking turns in a clockwise direction, a player was to draw a card and read it aloud. Each question represented a 'round,' which would only end once all players had either answered the question, or refused to answer the question. There were consequences for either decision, of course.

For players who actually chose to answer the _Interrogations_ question, they were compelled to do so with honesty, as the enchantment on the bespelled deck coerced the truth from a person's mouth as if they'd been dosed with Veritaserum. When they completely answered the question, they were then allowed to draw from the _Deeds _deck. This set of cards was made up of suggested 'rewards' for the players who showed remarkable courage in answering the questions put to them, and because this "compensation" was determined by the players themselves in advance, the _Deeds _card drawn could vary between something as simple as a foot massage to something a little more risqué, such as claiming a kiss from your partner, to the full kit and caboodle of engaging in full-on sex with your partner. The partner, in this case, had no choice but to submit to the _Deeds _card's requirements placed upon them, or they would be required to bow out of the game. If a partner forfeited the game, both players were 'retired,' with the surrendering half considered the 'loser' for their team's final number advantage. It was akin to a 'Truth or Dare' sort of situation.

To add to the excitement, the charm on the game itself allowed any number of accoutrements to magically appear as necessary to fulfill a _Deeds _card's requirements. Hermione was guessing that they just popped into the air and then were whisked away when no longer needed, although she had no idea how a card deck could be spelled to do such a thing, honestly. So, one could literally put just about anything down on a _Deeds _card and the magic would assure that any necessary items to fulfill that card's requirements would be made conveniently available.

On the other hand… if a person was uncomfortable answering a question from the _Interrogations _deck, they could choose to pass and draw instead from the _Forfeits _deck. The intent of this deck was to punish those who wimped out. These cards were penalties made up by the players, too, and contained shocking and scandalous fines; anything causing permanent physical damage, blood loss, or psychological trauma was caveat understood as absolutely notbeing allowed, and no spells were to be used against anyone for any reason, according to the rules. Everything had to be physically performed on your partner, not magically. The trick in writing up your _Forfeits _cards was to balance out what you wanted to discipline others with versus what you, yourself, would tolerate acting out, in case you picked your own card.

The amount of time to indulge in each _Deeds _card or to participate in a _Forfeit _card was exactly twenty-five minutes per action. Meaning, you and your partner would typically closet yourselves away from the others to act out your cards for a total of fifty minutes per round, with the remaining ten minutes in the hour relegated as a 'rest' period - read: making yourself presentable again for public view, or getting your emotions under control.

The game ended when the last _Interrogations _card was turned, or when one of the two finalist partners caved, refusing to perform a _Forfeit_, whichever came first. The team with the most players still 'standing' at that point won.

Hermione realized with a start that this game set could quite possibly string out into a full twenty-four hour ordeal given that there would be twenty-four questions to answer, and each round lasted approximately an hour. No wonder Malfoy picked Saturday night to start; that way they could have all of Sunday night to recover from whatever happened.

Ugh. Seriously, could she really do this?

Looking across at Harry's eager face, she realized that this was her chance to sock it good to that Malfoy git for all of the years of torture he'd rained upon her head - if she was lucky enough to be partnered with him, that was to say. If not, at least she could stick it to that snob Zabini, or finally get a chance to get even with Theo, or maybe even have some fun with Seamus, Harry, or Ron, all of whom she wouldn't mind a one-off opportunity with, as there was some fine meatin that group. If she played, it would be a win-win for her, no matter who she ended up with, she realized.

Besides, she'd always had Harry's back, and he'd always had hers. They'd been there for each other through thick and thin, and the way he was looking at her now – as if the whole world's survival hinged on her acceptance of his invitation to play the game – she knew she would not say 'no' to him.

Looking back down at the rumpled paper in her sweaty, ink-stained hand, two words stuck out like a beacon of hateful contention to rile her anger once more into a whipping fury.

**_Too chicken? _**

Yeah, _he'd_ like her to be, wouldn't he? That monstrously stuck-up, rodent-faced Pygmy Puff!

Swallowing back her fear, Hermione looked Harry in the eye and nodded. "I say we take the challenge."

The others all gaped at her, mouths hinging open like rusted steel traps, this clearly being the last thing they'd expected her to announce.

"Really?" her best male friend asked, his emerald, shimmering eyes alight with a combination of relief and skepticism. "I mean, well, anything goes in this game, 'Mione. _Anything. _You know… sex stuff."

Raising an eyebrow at him, she smirked. "It's not as if I'm unfamiliar with what to do behind closed doors. And Malfoy did specify 'no cherries.'" She looked at her two girl friends sitting at her side on Seamus' bed, then at the three men sitting opposite her on Harry's twin. "I don't think that will be a problem with this group, and we all know it."

Ginny face vaulted, her pretty cheeks flaming red with embarrassment. Lavender giggled, and the three wizards across from them all looked somewhat sheepish, staring at their feet or the wall as to avoid Hermione's direct gaze.

Really, it's not like they were children anymore! How did they expect to beat the Slytherins at a game of naughty sex fetish if they grew embarrassed about just conversing on the subject? It was no secret, after all, that Hermione and Ron had lost their virginities to each other last summer, after they'd tried dating for two months. She really hadn't seen what all the fuss had been about in the afters, as she'd received more pleasure from chewing a stick of Drooble's Strawberry Gum and her own fingers wiggling under her knickers than she'd ever gotten from Ron's penis. Not that he wasn't a fun lover, but she'd just never gotten off with him.

Harry and Ginny had gone for it just this last February, she knew, breaking each other in on Valentine's Day. However, the novelty had worn off quickly for both of them, and they'd realized they'd had even less in common than she and Ron had had. They'd amicably parted ways a month later. Ginny had then hooked up with Seamus once, who'd already been with _quite _a few girls by then. It had just been a bit of fun for them, though, and not repeated since.

And she knew that Lavender had given her virginity to the Irish wizard two years ago. Nothing had come of that, though, except Lavender's resentment for the man. It had taken until this year for them to just be comfortable in the same room together. In the meantime, Ron had been on and off with Lav for the last nine months in a fuck-buddy manner, neither taking it as anything more than a bit of fun.

They'd all been sexually active, so what was the big deal?

Ron's face turned an interesting shade of puce. "Since no one else is saying it, I've got to: are you barking mad, 'Mione? You _can't _be serious? We're talking about Slytherins here - Malfoy as head git of the lot. You talk about shagging any one of them as easily as tying your shoes!"

Staring him down with her most confident glare, her smirk widened. "Crass, Ronald. But you're forgetting a couple of very important things: one, that Draco, Blaise, and Teddy might end up with the girls from their own team, instead of any of us, and two, that I _am _still a woman, after all. It only takes a pair of decent, half-naked breasts to make your gender come to heel."

Lavender giggled.

"And what are you on about?" Ron asked his on-again, off-again bed warmer. "It's not bloody funny!"

The honey blonde patted her beau's broad shoulder. "I think 'Mione's right. Forcing Malfoy, Zabini, or Nott to do the bidding of one of us women, and make them panting hot for more at the same time would be priceless. I can think of more than a few tricks to humiliate the blue-blooded caps right off of their precious heads."

Ginny recovered, catching on to the idea, eyes bright. "Ha! I'd make one of them kiss my feet and beg my forgiveness for every horrible thing they've ever said to me."

Brown laughed. "Honey, you're thinking too small. I'd tie them up and use a stinging hex on their privates. On and off for a good hour, at least. Let them try to reproduce after I'm through!"

Hermione grinned like a shark. "It would be brilliant revenge for the years of horribleness those three have forced us to endure."

Harry stood and nodded at Ron first, and they both turned to Seamus. "Right, Ron and I are in. You?"

"Do ya have any idea who th' Slytherins will be invitin'?" he asked, his Irish brogue thick with excitement.

Harry leaned against the back wall and crossed his strapping arms over his broad chest, which had expanded with hard packed muscle this last year, as he and the other members of the Quidditch team had begun a rigorous workout routine this last September, all so they could claim the House Cup this, their final year. "As I said, it'll be Malfoy, Zabini and Nott for the boys. He said Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and Tracey Davis would represent the girls from his House."

Hermione looked at all three men. "Parkinson? Perfect. I'd love to see her squirm for one of you, too. How galling would it be to her pride for any one of you three to touch her 'precious pure-blood limbs,' much less make her squirm under your mouths and hands?"

Harry looked at her with amusement. "Some days, you really scare me, 'Mione."

"She bloody terrifies me on a regular basis," Ron added.

Seamus snickered. "Are ya sure ya were sorted into th' right House, lass?"

Ignoring the ragging, Hermione shared a look with Ginny and Lavender, the three of them silently communicating their agreement to go ahead with the plan. When consensus had been reached, she turned back to Harry. "Tell that rat bastard that we're _all _in - to win."

**X~~~~~~~~~X**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland  
Slytherin Boys Dorms (Draco Malfoy's room)  
Wednesday, June 10, 1998 (late evening) _**

The owl arrived to his window in the dorms that night about two hours after dinner. With a tiny bit of trepidation, Draco held the parchment in his hands. He threw a silent prayer to Slytherin that first, Potter and company had accepted his challenge, and second, that the predictable ponce had picked the one girl he was simply _dying _to lock horns – and other parts - with.

"Open it already!" Nott growled, brilliant cerulean eyes alight with anticipation. His tall, broad-shouldered frame hunched over at the waist, as he placed his palms down on the edge of the mattress and leaned in. "Go on!"

At the foot of the cot sat a silent, unruffled Blaise Zabini, unmoving, his attention on the note, not giving any indication that he was at all interested in the outcome of the challenge he'd been volunteered for by his best friend. Draco knew the façade to be a carefully crafted lie, however. Deep in the depths of his friend's usually enigmatic, dark brown stare, the same burning desire both he and Theo felt simmered.

With a flair for the dramatic, Draco opened the letter with slow deliberation. Reading its contents, his heart let out a loud and lusty shout of triumph. Beaming ear to ear, he read the response out loud.

**_Malfoy,_**

**_We're on. If you chicken out, we'll let the whole school know it. Unless there's a need for a last minute substitution because of illness, here's our team roster: me, R. Weasley, S. Finnigan, H. Granger, L. Brown, and G. Weasley._**

**_Be prepared for your arses to be handed to you,_**

**_- H. Potter_**

Theodore Nott hooted with laughter. "Gods, I can't _wait _to mess with Granger! That girl gets under my skin with her know-it-all attitude. I've been waiting a long time to put that little swot in her place."

Keeping his face as neutral as possible, Draco tamped down on the jealous surge through his guts. "If you're lucky enough to draw her name, she's all yours."

Of course, he wasn't going to announce it, but he had every intention of cheating to assure Granger and he ended up paired off. _No one _was going to touch her except him. She was _his_. He'd waited years to finally get his hands on her.

He turned to Blaise. "Bet you can't wait to give it to the She-Weasel, especially after the last match."

As a Chaser, Ginny Weasley had been assigned to check Blaise any time they'd faced off across the Quidditch pitch. The two had formed an antagonistic relationship over the last two years since she'd joined the Golden Lions, one that was nearly as rancorous as Draco's own had been with Granger at the start of their school years.

Zabini's dark eyes glittered with a dark, unfamiliar emotion, and a small smile graced his full lips. "If I'm lucky enough to draw her name," he replied, using similar language to Draco's.

In that moment, Draco knew the gig was up - his best friend suspected that he intended on cheating to arrange things in his favour. In the manner of Slytherins, though, his best friend was wordlessly conveying an offer to keep his mouth shut about the subterfuge in return for fixing the arrangement with Weasley for him as well. Draco nodded in silent understanding and acceptance.

"I have a good feeling about this," he casually announced. Dropping the parchment into his lap, he stretched his arms together over his head, cracking his knuckles by interlacing his long, pale fingers. "This'll be a game to remember."

Nott stood to grab a piece of parchment, his quill, and an ink bottle from his school bag, turning them over to Draco. "Let them know we're in agreement. I don't want any crying foul later that there wasn't an official accord."

Taking the items, Draco conjured a wooden lap board for writing and got down to penning a reply.

**_Potty,_**

**_Terms accepted, dandelion. Again, barring subs, our team is as follows: me, Zabini, Nott, Greengrass, Davis, and Parkinson._**

**_Get ready to beg for mercy,_**

**- _D.M._**

**_p.s. Don't forget to pack your hankies for when the crying starts._**

**X~~~~~~~~~X**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland  
Seventh Year's Defence Against The Dark Arts Classroom  
Thursday, June 11, 1998 (morning) _**

Harry glared across the aisle at Malfoy. Obviously bored as the rest of them, as classes had officially ended for seventh-years - all exams had been taken the previous week, and this week was simply a wrap-up and individual review of results; next week was personal counselling about every student's future options based on aptitude and N.E.W.T. scores, which were to come in on Monday morning, and handed out by Heads of Houses - the smug git had the audacity to throw a small, waded up piece of paper at the back of Hermione's head. From her seat two rows up, his best friend looked up at Professor Moody, noted the man was distracted by Terry Boot's final interview, and bent over to pick up the wad of paper. She opened it and read. Whatever it said made her stiffen and he could practically feel her ire from across the row.

She picked up her quill and scribbled something on it, then hiding the paper in the sleeve of her robe, she raised her hand. Harry glanced over at Malfoy, who _tsk'd_ and sat back in his chair, knowing he was busted this time.

"What is it Miss Granger?" Moody asked, looking up from the paper in front of him.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Sir, I'm afraid I'm feeling a little dizzy. Since we've already had our review, may I go to the Hospital Wing to have a lie down for a bit?"

Moody stared hard at her for a second, and then nodded. "Potter, you're done as well, so escort your Housemate to Madam Pomfrey, to make sure she gets there safely." He returned to talking to Terry, ignoring everyone else, who sat around in groups and whispered, gossiping and making plans for the weekend and after graduation.

Harry stood without needing to be told twice. Truth be told, he was bored off his gourd. "Yes, sir."

Ron threw him a 'you lucky bastard!' expression and waved him off, then moved his chair back to Seamus, Neville, and Dean's little gathering one row back to join in their discussion about next Friday night's farewell Formal.

Making his way to Hermione's side, Harry took her bag and slung it over her shoulder, and then the two headed out. On the way past Malfoy's desk, Hermione locked eyes with their rival, smirked, and pressed the wadded up paper into his free hand. Without skipping a beat, she kept walking, so Harry didn't stop either.

When they were far enough down the corridor for no one to hear, Harry finally had to ask. "Right, so what did Slytherin's Prince have to say to you, and what did you say back that's got you grinning like the Cheshire Cat?"

Hermione chortled. "I wondered how long it would take before you broke. He asked me if I liked kneeling, because he planned to have me in that position for him this Saturday night if he pulled my name as his partner."

Harry clenched his jaw. "How did you reply?"

A tinge of a blush bloomed across her pretty, golden cheeks. "I told him _he_ should get his cushioned Quidditch leggings out of storage because it wouldn't be _me_ on my knees if we were lucky enough to be thrown together. I further intimated that I might just write up a _Forfeit_ card that required all of the men on his team to suck each other's penises if he kept harassing me."

Harry burst into laughter. "Brilliant, 'Mione!"

His best girl friend shrugged. "Top of the class, you know," she joked, fluffing her hair in playful teasing. They both erupted into fresh gales of mirth then, and changed topics, discussing their all of their test scores to date. Chivalrously, Harry let his Housemate talk first.

As she critiqued her own essay for Potions (which had –_gasp_- earned her an "E" instead of an "O"), Harry considered his best female friend from the corner of his eye, catching every third word or so. He'd had a crush on 'Mione in third year, and for a little bit of fifth year, too, but hadn't wanted to step into Ron's territory. Now, though, she was free and clear, as his two best friends' relationship hadn't worked out, and he knew she wasn't currently dating anyone.

For just those few minute's walk, Harry let himself consider the possibilities, eyes roaming covertly down her body, appraising… Hermione had definitely grown-up, hadn't she? Her bushy hair and teeth had been tamed by fourth year, and her overall figure had matured with ample curves. She was really quite pretty, too, in a girl-next-door sort of way, with a very light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and warm eyes that reminded him of dark-bronze pence pieces. Her smile was genuine, her shiny curls a warm blend of copper, chocolate, and russet, and her skin was an enticing golden-pink hue. Overall, he found he was physically still attracted to her.

Perhaps it wouldn't be a total disaster if he drew her name from the pile tomorrow, as he'd worried when the thought occurred to him last night. Their personalities sometimes clashed, yes, but she was someone he could be honest with, and he felt comfortable talking about private things with her. Maybe that would be enough for a start?

On the other hand, 'Mione was the upwardly mobile, independent type, always looking for that next plateau to conquer. She didn't need someone to emotionally lean on, and her intellect and personal ambition far outstripped everyone else's he'd ever known. He knew from Ron that she was also the aggressive type in between the sheets. Harry was exactly the opposite; he was more laid back about his future, content to enjoy his work. He wanted a woman who would need him and let him be the strong one in the relationship, would let him romance her, and who would actually enjoy long love-making sessions.

No, clearly 'Mione, like Ginny, was not the girl for him, no matter how sexually attracted to her he may be, and he knew it deep down inside. In fact, if they messed around, he was worried he'd become even more attached to her than he already was, which would be very bad for their friendship in the end. Theirs would be a messy break-up...

No, he decided, it would be a really bad thing were he to draw her name as his partner for the game.

Leaving Hermione at the entrance to Madam Pomfrey's lair, he turned about and headed back towards D.A.D.A., wondering if he would ever find a girl who actually wanted to fall in love the old-fashioned way.

**X~~~~~~~~~X**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland  
Dining Hall  
Thursday, June 11, 1998 (mid-afternoon) _**

Blaise stared across the Great Hall at the Weasley girl. Crimson fire flashed as she brushed a long gathering of her hair over her shoulder, laughing in delight over something Seamus Finnigan, her Quidditch teammate, had said. Her pink lips were turned up in a beauteous smile that lit up the room, and Finnigan laughed in conjunction around his sucking on the end of a Sugar Quill. The two shared a secret smile.

He couldn't believe it: she'd fucked the Irish, too! Blaise could see it in the intimate look that passed between them. It was bad enough Potter had taken her virginity, but Finnigan was an unapologetic man-slag with a roster that outstripped even Blaise's list of conquests.

Inside his guts, something tightened and his blood heated, amping him up for violence.

Weasley was _his_. The sexy, little minx had spent the last two years taunting and haunting him from the Quidditch pitch… and in his dreams… and in the bed he'd shared with others during that time, as well. Every partner, no matter their skin or eye colour, their gender or body shape, or how they smelled or sounded, all were _her_ as he shut his eyes and took them. They all had her bronze-gold orbs that sparkled, her shiny, straight strawberry-blonde mane that she'd randomly dyed black at the tips just to be controversial, her full bottom lip that begged for kissing, and her lightly freckled skin that smelled of spicy orange and cinnamon perfume. _Every single time_ he'd orgasmed over the last two years, whether in a partner or in his own hand, he'd cried out for Ginevra in his mind, pretending it was her sweet, tight body he was pouring his seed into.

Yet, his single-minded fixation regarded him with nothing but clear disdain each time she glanced over at him, refusing to acknowledge or even attempt to know the real man under his various uniforms - and all because he was a Slytherin. Her House prejudice was firmly ensconced by a generational Gryffindor brainwashing, and her contempt cut him up inside and out.

The fact of the matter was, from their very first formal introduction across the Quidditch arena two years ago, Ginevra Weasley had effectively ruined Blaise's aloof calm. She continually distracted his concentration, made him feel ineffectual, and manoeuvered him into positions where the consequence was him acting the fool – and she'd accomplished that task with minimal effort, and clearly, without care.

He intended on making her pay for that. He was going to destroy her senses as much as she did his. Once he had Draco fix the cards on Saturday night so he was partnered up with her, and he'd had a chance to fuck her good, he would drop little Miss Weasley on that prissy, snooty ass of hers with relief, and finally be free of this obsession that had made him pathetic for far too long.

Glancing to his side, he watched his best friend's winter-grey gaze zero-in on Granger. "Patience," he cautioned under his breath to his friend, low enough for only the two of them to hear. Unlike Blaise's temper, which was usually reserved and outwardly rational, Malfoy's was fireworks-in-the-sky volatile. The last thing they needed was be called 'foul' by the other team and be disqualified for provoking pre-game fighting, thus losing before the contest could commence. "And more care, if you don't mind. We've both read the rules of the game. Your little stunt this morning in class could have cost us."

Draco's lids lowered in an unspoken warning. He didn't take well to being chastised, Blaise knew. "I'm well aware of how much skirting the edge I can do. Besides, it's all a bit of fun. I like riling her up. I love watching what it does to her."

Blaise nodded, turning his attention to slicing up his pot roast, smearing a daub of gravy on it with his knife. "Just don't anger her enough into crossing a line. I wantto play this one out to the end."

Malfoy speared a potato wedge and held it up, focusing on it before popping it into his mouth. Once he'd finished chewing and swallowing, his smirk returned. "Eager to get at our little red bird, are we?"

"_My_ little red bird," he growled under his breath, clenching his jaw at the man's audacity. His grip on his silverware tightened. "Don't forget that."

Glancing through dark-gold lashes, Draco grinned at him. "Wouldn't dare," he cheekily replied, popping another chip in his mouth.

They shared a moment more in silent understanding: he would not interfere with Draco's pursuit of Granger, and in return, his friend would show him the same courtesy in regards to the Weasley girl, his lioness. That agreement made, Blaise consumed the rest of his meal in quiet introspection and with restraint, refusing to look back up at his little firebrand's goings-on, not wanting to appear soppish or imprudent. He'd leave that sort of thing to Draco, who was clearly besotted with Gryffindor's Princess.

**X~~~~~~~~~X**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland  
Seventh Year's Charms Classroom  
Thursday, June 11, 1998 (afternoon) _**

Pulling the Pixie Pop from his mouth, relishing its honey flavour across his tongue, Seamus drifted in and out of the conversation he was sharing with his mate, Michael Corner. His attention was currently fixated on the front of the classroom, where Flitwick was going over Lavender's final exam results with her in a semi-private interview.

Even as he half-cocked listed to his friend brag on and on about applying for a position within Magical Law Enforcement over the summer, Seamus' eyes meandered of their own accord over the curve and dip of his ex-girlfriend's long, graceful neck. Absently, he wondered what it would feel like to touch that soft-looking skin of hers again…

Lavender Renelle Brown.

For some unfathomable reason, this one witch had driven him fair mad since his first wet dream. Something about her kept drawing him back in, no matter how many others he'd taken to bed since their one-off in fifth year. He'd been the lucky bloke to win her virginity back then, and although the event hadn't been all roses and romance, it had definitely haunted him since - and not in a good way.

Alright, so admittedly, his technique had seriously sucked back then, and he could understand why she would pretend as if shagging him had never happened. In his defence, though, it had only been his second time having sex. Yeah, he knew he'd hurt the lass with his lack of skill, his over-eagerness, and his size, but he'd also known that it _always_ hurt for a girl the first time.

He'd tried to make it right afterwards, though, by cuddling with Lavender, but she'd been strangely stiff in his arms. It was as if she didn't want him touching her anymore. She hadn't returned any of his kisses either. In fact, she'd cringed from him. So, he'd taken the hint, picked his seriously bruised ego up off of the floor, and left. He'd wanted to respect her need for privacy, so she could take care of the more feminine, delicate matters of her clean-up. He'd also needed to retreat so he could cover up his embarrassment at having failed to make her come, and being little more than a 'two-pump chump' himself.

Of course, he'd learned since how to properly minimize the pain for the girl if it was her first time, how to last while inside a woman, and he'd also come to appreciate the finer points of bedroom etiquette - specifically, assuring his partner's care-taking in the afters. It was knowledge that he wished he'd had back then, however, as it continued to be a major regret of his that he hadn't had such proficiency available to make Lavender's first time all it should have been. He'd wanted her to scream with pleasure, not moan with pain.

He still regretted the fallout from the event, too – specifically, that she'd written off both him and their budding friendship. He'd really been head over boots for Brown then, but she'd made it _very clear_ that she wasn't having anything to do with him after their one night together.

At the time, he'd been brassed off at her for deliberately avoiding his sincere attempts to apologize the next day. He'd meant to make up his inept treatment of her the night before by going down on her and giving her some pleasure, but she had flatly refused to meet him again. After a week of repeated rejections, he'd finally given up, assumed she'd had her piece of him, and was moving on - which had, at the time, stung his pride and made him feel quite used. He hadn't bothered to approach her again for any reason thereafter, and for the next year and a half, things had remained severely strained between them - to the point where they were never alone, she'd hardly glanced in his direction, and she'd made sure to keep at least one person between them at all times. It had only been since she'd hooked-up as Ron's casual bedmate this year that she'd marginally relaxed in Seamus' presence.

Feeling a bit petulant over the memories, he shoved the Pixie Pop back in his mouth and took another good suck at it. The sweet, addicting taste helped his mood, somewhat.

As he considered the upcoming challenge this weekend, an exciting idea occurred to him: perhaps he'd get a second chance this Saturday night to make up for their first time! If he drew Lavender for a partner, he'd have the opportunity to not only apologize for the rough treatment she'd experienced under him back when they'd both been fifteen, but also to give her that orgasm he'd been dying to give her for the last two years. Maybe even _multiple_ orgasms!

Ah, the luck of the Irish would tell, as his Mam was so fond of saying. He'd cross his fingers and toes, and hope for the match.

"Mate, you all right?" Michael asked, looking at him askance.

Seamus turned his head and focused on his friend, pulling his mind back into the here and now for the moment. "Sorry, was thinkin' o' next week's graduation. Whaddya say?"

Corner accepted his excuse and picked up right where he'd left off, so engrossed in talking about himself that he hardly noticed that his audience's attention was not wholly recaptured. In fact, thereafter Seamus' responses to him consisted of little more than a series of party nods.

His gaze traveled back to Brown's profile as she animatedly spoke with Flitwick, entranced by the way her mouth moved and her indigo-coloured eyes sparkled. Letting his gaze drift downward, he grew hard in his trousers at noting the curve of her ample breasts sweetly outlined from the side, as her summer uniform blouse was pulled tight across the lovely mounds of flesh. When she laughed at something the professor said, his attention was drawn back upwards to her lips again.

He'd kissed that mouth once...

Licking his own lips, he took her all in once more, from head to toe. Gods alive, she was lovely! She reminded him of a fairy, with her pretty features and her golden hair, and he secretly chuckled over the idea. Now wouldn't that beat all if she were?

When she stood up and shook their instructor's hand in thanks, there was a happy bounce to her movements that captivated him as assuredly as her brilliant smile did. She moved with confidence and a flirty, enthusiastic grace, and once more he was helpless but to note just how comfortable she had become in that body of hers now that she was all grown up and knew how to use it. If only he could he convince her to use such charms on _him_ any time before graduation! All he'd need is one more chance with her...

Godric's bollocks, he hoped she was his partner this weekend for the game, because he'd waited long enough for her to come back around his way.

**X~~~~~~~~~X**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland  
Seventh Year's Charms Classroom  
Thursday, June 11, 1998 (afternoon) _**

As Lavender turned away from her interview with Professor Flitwick – who had encouraged her plans to apply for a position within the Department of Mysteries, as her Charms scores were rather high – her eyes roamed the room…

…and froze on Seamus Finnigan, who was staring at her with some serious heat while sucking on a Pixie Pop.

Her heart gave a sharp thump, lodging in her throat. Godric, those spring-green eyes of his, surrounded by sensual, dark lashes! He could seduce anyone he put his mind to with them.

Oh, who was she fooling? He did _exactly_ that! Everyone knew his sex score card was filled with a long list of conquests. To her humiliation, even she appeared on the list. Thank the Founders she'd had sense to only make it a one-time mistake, though. At least she didn't look quite as foolish as some of the girls who mooned all over him after he'd kicked them to the curb, girls like Lisa Turpin or Romilda Vane. At least she…

Shite, he was playing the game tomorrow night, wasn't he? There was a one in six chance that he could draw her card on Saturday night. If that happened, a whole lot more than gawking was going to happen between them – again.

Oh, no. Please, no! She wasn't sure she'd be able to face that kind of grief again!

But… she had promised 'Mione that she'd try to stick it out in the game, if only so Gryffindor would be able to smash another triumph in Slytherin's face. She owed the witch a huge debt, even though she could never tell Granger such a thing. Her conscience tugged at her to accept this responsibility as part of her penance.

No choice then: she'd have to suck it up and deal like a true Gryffindor if she _did _end up partnered with Sea. The Irish was one man she knew could break her emotionally in half if she let him; he almost had after their brief little affair when she'd been fifteen. Since he'd only had time to hone that charming charisma over the years, she knew that meant she'd have to be extra careful guarding her heart this time around… if, indeed, it was her fate to be stuck with the man.

Better to not think like that for now. Better to simply hope the cosmos partnered her with Ron instead. She was comfortable with her current, casual lover. They knew each other well enough that nothing they did on Saturday night would, in any way, damage what they had. After all, how could you ruin a friends-with-benefits arrangement when there were no deeper feelings involved?

As she bent to retrieve her satchel from the floor to put her test scores away, she felt a single finger trail down her spine in passing. Jerking upright, her spine tingled with mini-electric shocks. Seamus threw her a naughty wink over his shoulder as he made his way to the front of the room for his interview with the Professor. He held his hand low at his side, but waggled the one finger he'd just touched her with in a playful backwards wave. Blushing to the roots, Lavender hurriedly stuffed her papers into her bag and sat down in her chair.

"Did Sea just pinch you?" Parvati whispered to her, scandalized. "You jumped as if he had."

Struggling to regain composure, Lavender tried for nonchalance, laughing the incident off, even as her heart raced under her ribs. "Oh, you know how he is. He's just trying to get a rise."

"Looked to me like he succeeded," her friend joked. "His pants were tenting rather inappropriately just now." The witch whistled in appreciation. "I'd forgotten how big he is. Yum!"

Oh, that was right: Parvati had had a piece of Seamus a couple of times, too, hadn't she?

"He's not that big," Lavender sniffed, trying not to think about Seamus like that again, if she could help it.

Her friend's eyebrows achieved a world record jump for height. "Don't tell me you've had bigger, because I'd say that wasn't possible. The boy is a good ten to eleven inches long, and thicker than my wrist."

Lavender blinked, feeling the rush of her blood travel like a locomotive steam engine all the way to her toes. Had Sea really been that big? She honestly couldn't summon up a memory of such a detail, because she hadn't actually looked at his penis or touched it with her hand the night they'd had sex. What she did recall from their time together wasn't so pleasant a memory…

_He laid her down on a flat, cold, foreign bed in an empty dorm room. The light was so dim, Lavender could hardly see Seamus' expression, but she could most certainly feel everything happening to her. It seemed like a dream come true. She'd wanted this with him for the last year, and now it was really happening!_

_Her unbuttoned shirt was parted and her bra tugged down. Sea's hot, wet mouth wrapped around a nipple and began sucking. Founders, that felt good! He switched between her breasts, giving each equal attention._

_Distracting her with sensations she'd never known before, he slyly scooted her knickers down her legs and off, pushing her skirt up over her waist. His hand delved between her legs, touching her in a place she'd only recently discovered herself. But she wasn't moist at all. Talk about embarrassing! Sea didn't seem put-off by that, though. He licked his fingers several times and brought the wetness of his saliva to her slit until her body began to relax and her natural arousal overcame her fear._

_Suddenly, what they were doing wasn't so scary… and it was beginning to feel really good, too._

_His mouth lifted to hers and he kissed her once more, pumping his tongue sloppily into her mouth. It was clear Sea was only a little more experienced than she was at this, but they learned together how to properly French in those minutes, even as one of his fingers entered her and began slowly pumping back and forth._

_At some unspoken signal, his hand moved out of her and the sound of his trouser zip coming down was loud in the silent room. The sharp rasping noise brought her back to reality better than a bucket of ice water would have. She was actually going to have sex with him, here, tonight, wasn't she? Her thighs quaked at the thought. Sure, she'd been daring and brave earlier when he'd suggested they try this, but now she wasn't so sure she was ready._

_There was absolutely no time to tell Sea any of this, though, as he quickly spread her legs apart, and using his hand, lined his penis up with her opening. Right as she was about to tell him, "maybe we should wait," he thrust. A series of hard shoves followed, as he tunnelled into her virginal channel, opening her wide and splitting her hymen with a powerful shove. Lavender bit her lip to keep from screaming at the searing pain that followed the loss of her innocence, whimpering instead as he inelegantly moved in and out of her at a fast pace._

_Godric, this was nothing like she'd expected. She'd known it would hurt the first time, but this was just… terrible. She felt absolutely no pleasure from the act whatsoever._

_To her relief, however, it was quickly over. Sea groaned around a kiss, and then stiffened with a cry, his back arching, his hips rolling forward one more time. He came inside her, but she couldn't feel it. Wasn't it supposed to feel warm? Gooey? Sticky? There was nothing except the feeling of being stretched too far, and an ache in her hip bones. When he was spent, he collapsed on top of her, breathing hard._

_When he finally recovered a bit of his strength and sanity, there were some kisses, and his arms came around her, but Lavender felt oddly disconnected to what she'd just experienced, as if it had happened to someone else. Her arms refused to obey her mind's command to hug him back, and her lips felt too cold to move. She was numbed by shock._

_Her first time had been absolutely horrid - not at all the romantic moment she'd imagined._

_Abruptly, Seamus pulled out of her body, and it was then that she finally felt the rush of warm fluids as they followed in the wake of his quick withdrawal. Her body was too tender and her pelvis too sore for her to sit up just then, so all she could do was watch as Sea stumbled around, getting re-dressed. When he was presentable, he murmured a series of repeat apologies, and then he turned and left._

_He just… left._

_How could it have gone so wrong? _

Lavender flinched from the memory of what had come after…

Once the dazed astonishment had worn off, the tears had come. They had been scalding and bitter, and her accompanying sobs had been loud. Yet, even in the middle of her regretful snuffling, she'd found a moment of unexpected pleasure: a series of rolling, electric shocks – tiny fingers of stroking, erotic pleasure – had come upon her without warning, caressing up and down her spinal column with a pressure that had had her whole body tightening up. Her eyes had rolled back in her head as the sudden, overwhelming sensation had riotously ridden her every sense, and a moment later, she'd orgasmed. The warm, lovely feeling of peaking, flying, and finally melting had hovered around her senses for a few minutes after that, until eventually the cold of the room had seeped back into her tired bones…

…and with it had returned hateful reality.

Instead of giving her a sense of peaceful satisfaction and closure, that bizarre, after-the-fact climax she'd experienced that night had only served to remind her of how deficient her first sexual experience had truly been. Her body had been so shocked by what Sea had done to her that it had actually delayed her ability to come! She still felt that to be a totally fucked-up reaction.

She'd gotten up after that and cast the Contraceptive and Disease Charm on her belly, as taught by Madam Pomfrey in her Health and Healing Class. The stinging pain between her legs and the heavy throbbing in her hips had been sheer torture to endure all the way back to her dorm, but it had been a toss-up to say whether it was physical or emotional pain that hurt worse then. It had been especially difficult not to feel so wounded by the feel of Sea's sperm, deposited so casually and indifferently into her just minutes before, finally dripping down her thighs as she'd done the 'walk of shame' back to her bed.

As she'd lain down to sleep in her room later that night, she'd berated herself for having had sex for the first time on the spur of the moment - and all because she'd been hot for Finnigan, and he'd been able to talk her into taking such a big step with a few lush kisses. An even bigger blow was when she'd had to admit the fact that in walking out on her as he had, Seamus had let her know that she'd meant nothing more to him than a hole to fill. As she'd feared, she'd been only a bet for him to win with Dean Thomas. The crush she'd had for the Irish literally did as the name suggested then, and she'd cried to sleep that night.

Her sorrow over the one-off affair didn't abate for quite a long time for her, either. The painful lead weight of regret and the major blow to her pride at being so thoroughly used had continued to press down on her ribcage and linger over her shoulders for months after. Finally, time did its usual favour and abated the worst of it, but it had taken almost two years.

After that, she'd vowed never to be used by another man. If there was to be sexual servicing going on, it would be on _her_ terms. Yes, sir, Lavender Brown had decided to become a take-charge kind of girl when it came to her sexuality, and there was no way in the seven layers of Hell that she'd let a man overwhelm her in that arena ever again - especially the likes of Seamus _whore-mongering _Finnigan!

**X~~~~~~~~~X**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland  
Dining Hall  
Thursday, June 11, 1998 (evening) _**

Daphne was squeezed between her best girlfriend, Pansy, on one side of the dining table, and her younger sister, Astoria, on the other, pretending to be engrossed in eating her cheese, onion, and leek quiche while drowning out the gossip and prattle amongst her female Housemates. She was, instead, fine-tuning her ability to eavesdrop on the conversation happening a little further down the table, where her Theo sat next to Mister Zabini and Mister Malfoy.

Shutting out extraneous noise and focusing on a specific voice or series of voices while surrounded by others was a trick she'd learned over the years to survive living in Slytherin House, for the more secrets you knew, the more you were left alone by others who feared your knowledge against them. Daphne had never had cause to use such a weapon to date, as it wasn't in her nature to want to abuse such things, but one never knew what the future might bring, so she kept these confidences locked in her brain for a rainy day. She rarely had much to contribute to idle chit-chat anyway, preferring to be an active listener instead.

As she chewed, she picked up wisps of conversation floating on the air, capturing the essence by filling in the blanks. Theo had just intimated that everyone should dress-up for their game night, and the other two wizards in his accompaniment had readily agreed.

Oh dear, she could just envision what _that_ meant. It was no small stretch to assume that if Theo had his way, all six of the women would be pasted into either tight leather corsets and lacy, barely-there bits of lingerie. Six-inch heels and some sort of restraining device around the neck, wrists, or waist would also, no doubt, be in fashion. She may love the charming, silly Slytherin, but she was also well aware of Nott's sexual depravities from having observed him in secret for years. He was a visual sensualist, stimulated by colours and shapes, more than any other sense. Physically monitoring the reactions he purposefully elicited from others – seeing their eyes flare and their cheeks pink with panic or anger or desire – aroused him more than touching them. Consequently, that also made him a natural voyeur, and a daring and uninhibited exhibitionist.

It would be best to warn her friends of their male Housemate's intentions, so the women would have input into their wardrobe choices.

"It sounds as if our male teammates have determined that we three ladies are to embellish our clothing options this weekend for their amusement," she leaned over and whispered in Pansy's ear.

Immediately, her friend curtailed her unflattering comparison of Professor Snape to Sanguini, the world's most famous 'outed' Vampire with Millicent, turning rounded, surprised eyes on Daphne. "What?" the witch hissed in anger. Clearly, she understood the situation. "We'll have to talk about that after dinner. I don't like things sprung at me – especially costuming – at the last minute."

Daphne did not look up; she merely continued to cut into her meal with genteel precision. "Agreed," she murmured.

"What is?" her little sister chimed in next to her.

"You need not be concerned with our discussion," Daphne coolly replied. She loved Tori, truly, but the girl's curiosity was simply too rambunctious for long-term exposure. She should never have been sorted into Slytherin House; Hufflepuff would have been a far better match for her sister's temperament. Daphne suspected that the only reason her sister had been selected to join her in the Silver and Green was because the girl had wished not to be parted from her older sibling, and everyone knew the Sorting Hat took a person's private wishes into account when making its final decision.

Tori pouted. "You always say that. I'm not a baby anymore, Daph."

Taking a deep, calming breath, Daphne turned to address her sister and tried not to sound like a horrid bitch, keeping her voice even and mild, and her tone low enough so that no one else knew she was gently rebuking the girl. "I have never stated that you were, Tori. I recognize that you are fast maturing at the proper physical rate. However, your mental development must occur at a synonymous rate if you are to survive in this House. That includes making smart decisions and rummaging for social cues before interjecting yourself into a conversation or situation. To speak ahead of considering your questions or imparting information could mete out your downfall. We have discussed this before." Conveying such wisdom was the only way Daphne saw of helping her little sister survive dwelling alongside the other Slytherins once she graduated in a week, for Tori still had two more years until she matriculated from Hogwarts, and unless she appreciated and assimilated these important lessons soon, her final four Terms would be utterly miserable for the girl. Daphne would spare her affable, guileless, gullible sister such pain, if she could.

Putting her fork and knife down, Daphne daubed her lips with her napkin, and then put a hand over Tori's as it rested on the bench between them. "In this case, what Pansy and I are discussing is truly nothing of significance, just a bit of tittle-tattle."

Tori's brilliant smile lit up her face and she looked with honest eyes up at the taller Daphne. "Sorry for being so nosey, sis."

Daphne shook her head and smiled back. "Curious, remember? Snape is the only _nosey _one around here." It was an oft-told joke around their House that their Head's hooked beak was large enough to rival a hippogriff's.

Her sister erupted into peals of laughter once more at the sly innuendo. The sound was merry and frank and artless – a sound not ever heard at a Slytherin gathering.

Out of the corner of her eye, Daphne caught sight of Theo as he turned his attention in their direction to investigate the commotion. Her heart beat just a little faster under his scrutiny.

**X~~~~~~~~~X**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland  
Hallway to Transfiguration Classrooms  
Friday, June 12, 1998 (morning) _**

Ron was walking the hallway, his satchel the lightest it had been all term now that exams were over. He slung the bag about in the nearly empty corridor, late for McGonagall's class, but not truly concerned, since he'd already had his final exam interview with her, and was merely required to show up out of a need for the school to 'maintain routine.'

He considered whistling low a merry jig taught him by Charlie over the Easter break, but ditched the idea in a heartbeat when he heard the sound of a female in tears coming from a window niche up ahead. Slowing, he stopped swinging his bag and within three steps, had come to a complete halt.

Yes, that was definitely a girl crying. Shite. What should he do? Should he keep walking and pretend he didn't see or hear the girl, who sounded as if she was valiantly trying to stifle heavy sobs against some sort of fabric, or did he run past her at top speed instead? He _had_ to get to class; old McGonagall would notice he was missing and might even use that as the excuse to flunk him, as she'd threatened to do to anyone who skived off her classes this week or next, passing exam scores or not.

He shifted around as he contemplated his options, his feet scuffing the stone flooring.

The girl's crying abruptly stopped. "Who's there?" she demanded.

"Uhhhh," he began, but that was as far as he got before Pansy Parkinson popped out of her hidden location, face streaked with tears, cheeks reddened by embarrassment and anger, and dark eyes spitting mad.

"_Weasley!_" she snarled in righteous fury, spitting his name out as if it were a blasphemous thing. "Spying, were you? I shouldn't be surprised. I'd expect no less from the _boy_," she emphasized the word, "who'd been caught sneaking peeks in the Prefect's bathroom every Sunday afternoon last year. What despicable manners you have!"

Taken aback at the unfounded attack, Ron could only stare at Slytherin's Bitch Queen with open-mouthed astonishment. Spying? Was she serious?

"I wasn't! I didn't!" he refuted, feeling indignation pitting a corrosive, acid hole in his stomach. He'd put up with Parkinson's bite for the last seven years, giving it back to her every time she challenged and sassed him, so he expected ridiculousness to spew from her mouth every time she opened it. But to have her unjustly accuse him of stalking her like some sick pervert was pushing it. He may have been caught in a few compromising positions with Lavender over the past year, but he'd never peeped the Prefect's bath, and he certainly wasn't spying on this witch! "You're in the middle of the hallway, Parkinson! How's a bloke supposed to get to class and not notice your weeping mug gushing all over the place? Bloody drama queen!"

Parkinson's eyebrows shot into her hairline and her fists clenched at her side. She stomped forward, bristles up like some sort of badger on the attack. "How dare you, you hideous, intellectually-challenged carrot top!" she screeched in ear-splitting volume, closing the distance between them. "I'll have you know, Weasley, that I'm considered quite beautiful by some people!" In one of her hands, she held a piece of wadded up paper that she shook at him now. "Some wizards find me so attractive, in fact, that they've sued my father to court me already!"

He scoffed and shook his head. "Well, obviously, they're blind, aren't they? And clearly deaf, too!" He stuck a finger in one ear and wiggled it around, as if to clear it of the ringing her high-pitched voice had caused. "Honestly, you screech like a lunatic Veela. I s'pect you might've deafened me." Pulling that same finger out of his ear, he pointed it directly in her face in a moment of brilliant clarity. "Hey, I've got an idea: you could put those big lungs of yours to use and make an _honest_ living after graduation. I'm sure there are plenty of openings for a good tuba player or balloon blower out there somewhere, and it beats whoring yourself out to some pure-blood ponce just to make dad and mum happy, yeah?"

As if he'd thrown a bucket of frozen water over her, Parkinson's cheeks sheeted white in an instant, and hot tears flooded her eyes again. Her lower chin quivered, her lips pursed into a thin, straight line, and her jaw clenched as she struggled not to fall apart in front of him.

For a second, staring into the raw, naked hurt so obviously etching her face, Ron felt real shame flood through him. Sure, he and this infuriating witch had traded some nasty barbs over the years, but he'd always assumed those were just empty words meant to rile and blow off steam, or occasionally to jab or prod to test each other's strength. They'd never been meant to seriously wound, however. Now, however, he realized something important: sometimes words weren't just meaningless, and sometimes, they could hurt. It was a lesson he'd never taken seriously when 'Mione had explained her feelings every time Malfoy had called her a 'Mudblood,' but now he was learning the moral in record-fast time as he stared directly into Parkinson's anguished face.

Looking down in mortification, he shuffled his feet again. "Look, Parkinson, about what I just said-"

He never saw the blow coming. It was the slap that reverberated around the world, as loud as the one 'Mione had given Malfoy in third year, he was sure. Stunned, he took a step back and his eyes flew to the witch's face…

…only to find those fat, welling tears had escaped and were streaming down her cheeks. A deep misery was etched into every line of her face. Somehow, she'd seemed to age a few years in a matter of seconds.

"I hate you, Ronald Weasley!" she shrieked around a sob, then ran past him and didn't look back once.

He turned to follow her path, watching her shaking shoulders as she cried until she'd turned the corner and was out of sight. Only then did he let out the breath he'd been holding.

What the hell had just happened? What had he said specifically to set her off like that? Blinking away the after-effects of Parkinson's blow, he shook his head, rubbed his stinging cheek, and numbly continued on his way to class, feeling disoriented by the events of the last five minutes.

By the time he'd reached Transfiguration, though, he'd convinced himself that the incident in the hallway with the Slytherin Queen – her acting like a loon, that was to say - was probably just a result of PMS. Heck, his sister and 'Mione were always a bit barmy that time of the month, too.

He felt sorry for the poor sod that drew her name on Saturday night, as a woman on her period certainly limited what you could and would want to do with her in private.

**X~~~~~~~~~X**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland_**  
**_Seventh Year's Transfiguration Classroom_**  
**_Friday, June 12, 1998 (morning) _**

Tracey had received her Transfiguration final review with Professor McGonagall earlier that morning, and now sat, staring across the room at the boy she'd secretly had a crush on since first year. Harry Potter… Merlin, but he was gorgeous! His charming smile was currently turned on by something that Neville Longbottom had said, and she loved the way it lit up his face. She had to admit that she liked him much better without his glasses in the way now that he'd had his eyesight magically corrected this past year, although she would miss his rounded spectacles, as they'd been a mainstay of his appearance for as long as she'd known him. His dark, messy hair made her fingers itch to smooth it back, as usual. At least that would never change.

"Keep staring at Potter like that and he's going to find out," Hestia Carrow murmured to her.

Tracey blushed and elbowed her best girlfriend. "Shhh, not so loud," she admonished.

Hest looked about, pointing out the obvious – that they were the only ones sitting at the back of the class at the moment. Everyone else was situated closer to the front. "Who's going to hear?"

Tracey sighed and swung her head back around to take in Harry's profile. He was now in a discussion with his best mate, Ron Weasley, who had slunk in late today, looking a little mystified. "Doesn't matter anyway, I suppose."

Hestia's arch tone was a tad scathing. "Why, because he said he'd never be caught dead dating a Slytherin?" She sniffed in scorn. "For such a 'nice guy,' Trace, he sounds like a total toffee-nosed prat to me."

But Tracey adamantly shook her head. "House enmity is too ingrained into all of us, Hest. It's tradition for the four Houses to be rivals, because of personality differences. Gryffindors are diametrically opposed to Slytherins, and vice versa. It's the same with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Because of that, no one from our House has dated anyone from his House in over three decades. I'm not sure any of that is going to change within the next week, either… and then, it might not really matter, anyway."

Hestia snorted indelicately. "Then why bother following him into the Auror apprenticeship program?"

Tracey bit her lip, watching the boy she'd fallen for hard laugh over something his best friend said, feeling that familiar, sweet, painful pang in her heart once more. "Because maybe outside of Hogwarts, he won't see me as a Slytherin, but as a woman."

Her friend said nothing for a long minute, contemplating her. Finally, she gave up and sighed. "I still say you weren't sorted into the right House, Trace. You've always sounded too sentimental to me to be a snake. You should have been a Hufflepuff."

Hiding her smile, Tracey did not reply to the allegation, but merely continued staring at the boy-man who had utterly captured her heart, praying for a miracle at this weekend's game. Even having a slim chance of being partnered with Harry in _Eros_ was worth any price, as far as she was concerned. Maybe if he could see her as a woman sooner, rather than later…

If destiny was in her corner and he picked her _Partners_ card, she was going to give him everything, she decided, and let the chips fall where they may. At least then she'd have the memories of a few hours in Harry's arms to recall with fondness throughout the rest of her life, if nothing else.

**X~~~~~~~~~X**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland  
Dining Hall & second floor Women's Bathroom  
Friday, June 12, 1998 (afternoon) _**

Pansy entered the dining hall with head held high, refusing to look towards the Gryffindor table. She was sure that the filthy, raffish Weasley had told everyone by now about her little crying spell, and that he and his friends were even now snickering behind their hands at her. Well, she wasn't about to cower under their mockery. Hiding her pain behind her face, she marched with determination towards her regular spot next to Daphne, keeping her back to the rest of the room.

To her surprise, however, Daphne stood to meet her and escorted her and Tracey both out of the room by faking a need to go to the girl's loo together. They headed towards the second floor girl's bath. To their luck, Moaning Myrtle was occupied somewhere else at the moment, for the room was absent of her annoying humming and floating about.

"What's this all about?" she asked her friend, only to be interrupted by the sound of stall doors creaking as Daphne checked every pen to assure there were no other visitors about.

"You wished to discuss in private the outlandish scheme Mister Nott, Mister Zabini, and Mister Malfoy were conferring over at lunch," Daphne reminded her, waving her wand over the room and entrance to assure privacy. "They will arrive in approximately another minute or two for precisely that confrontation."

Great, just what Pansy needed – another altercation, for she was sure that was what this was going to turn into. She just knew what Draco and the others would consider proper 'attire' for tomorrow night's game, and there was no way Pansy was stooping to dressing like a whore.

"What idea?" Tracey asked.

Pansy sighed. "Draco has this ridiculous idea that we're going to play 'street salt' for him and model in our underwear."

"Which sounds like a fine plan to us," Draco announced as he, Blaise, and Theo entered the woman's loo without respect for the conversation or reverence for the location.

Tracey's face went pale. "No. Absolutely not! I am not a wanton woman! I will not dress or act as one, either."

Blaise's handsome gob twisted up into a smirk. "But isn't that the point of the game – to pretend to be something you're not just for one night of fun?"

Biting her lip, Tracey stared daggers at Zabini. He had a point, the slick git. Still, Pansy wouldn't back down from a similar position. It was time to set the limits on the game, and to make it clear to Malfoy that this wasn't his show alone. All of them were in it for their own ends. "I'm with Tracey, Draco. You won't see me dressed in something that leaves little to the imagination," she said, planting her hands on her hips and facing off against the three males in the room. "I've got my own sense of style and standards, and _you_ do not dictate them to me. None of you do."

Tracey took up the space to Pansy's right and nodded, folding her arms over her chest, showing solidarity. "Agreed."

Daphne cleared her throat and also stood in the line of female authority, to Pansy's left. "I concur. This game may be one of sexual mischievousness and dalliance, but it was concurrently designed for sophisticated diversion, not common tawdriness. You may wish to indulge in such uncouth sport, but I would like to enjoy it as a game of sultry delight – a conclusive initiation, as it were, into realizing adulthood."

Theo purred. "Rowrrrr… I love it when you talk smart, Greengrass," he grinned. "Gets me hard."

Daphne sniffed with disdain. "That is no stupendous accomplishment, Mister Nott. As you have so abundantly made clear over the years, _Witch Weekly_ seems enough to instigate the same affect upon your person."

Nott's grin took up the expanse of his handsome face. "That it does! Care to forward me your subscription as an early Christmas gift, love?"

Pansy blew a harsh breath out in growing impatience and frustration. "Fun aside, I believe you have our answer, gentlemen. We will not play sex-doll slag for you or the Gryffindors." She glanced at her two female companions, and held up a finger to block Draco's protest just as he'd started to launch his campaign to change their minds. She knew that he could be _so_ persuasive when he put his mind to having things his way, so it was best to cut him off before he got rolling. "However," she compromised, "I, personally, would be willing to wear a fancy dress that is stylish for the game - something French gothic in theme."

Malfoy raised one golden eyebrow in speculation. "And where would you have picked something like that up, Pans-dearest?" he dared to ask, smirking.

Pansy shrugged. "I couldn't decide between it and two others for the Halloween dance last October. I've been dying to wear it, honestly. This will give me the excuse."

"Is it at least marginally naughty?" Theo teased, leaning against a nearby stall and folding his arms across his tall, well-defined frame.

Chuckling, Pansy shook her head. "For someone of your tastes? No, Theo. But it will probably suit Blaise's just fine." Everyone knew Blaise was into dark lace and velvet, not leather and chains, like his roommate.

Nott dipped his head in acceptance. "That'll do, babe."

"I don't have a costume," Tracey admitted. "But, I _do_ have a rather striking dress that I'd wanted to wear to the last Yule Ball. I bought it, but traded out for something else at the last minute. I could wear that! It's elegant though, not naughty."

Daphne nodded her head. "I have a similar dress that I had intended to display at next week's Final Summer Formal, but have since exchanged the garment for a different inspiration. I believe it would be appropriate to display it for this occasion instead."

Draco eagerly rubbed his hands together. "Excellent! We'll just tell the Gryffindors tonight that their women have to dress well, too. That way, we're even on both sides. Problem solved." Believing the matter settled, he turned to leave.

"Nuh-uh-uh, Draco," Pansy stopped him. "We're not as even as you make it seem, sweet cakes. What about you men? Can we expect to see you play dress-up as well?"

Next to her, Tracey laughed. "Yes, if we're expected to look sexy, _you're_ expected to look dandy, too."

Theo traded a look with his friends. "Dandy? Does anyone even usethat word anymore?"

Zabini threw him a sardonic grin. "I do when talking about you."

Nott gave him the two-fingered salute, which had them all snickering, even the normally placid and reserved Daphne.

"You know I'll look fabulous," Draco arrogantly boasted. "Sexy shirt, pressed slacks, polished shoes. I'll even make a concession from my preferred colour of choice for my wardrobe ensemble and be contrary in white, just for the occasion. Sound good to you, love?"

Pansy nodded, and looked at Nott next. He scratched the back of his head, ruffling his chestnut hair. "We're about the same size, so I'll just borrow something from Draco's wardrobe, since all I brought back with me from Easter break was my dress robes for next week's dance." He threw his friend a pleading look. "Good?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Plebe."

"Crank wanker," Theo shot back. He was definitely, of the three, the more overt trouble-maker.

Blaise cleared his throat behind a polite fist. "I have a more than adequate dress shirt and trousers for the occasion. I won't disappoint, your Majesties."

Pansy puffed up, putting on false airs. "Wonderful. See that you don't." She turned her nose into the air and made a shooing motion with one hand. "Run along now, boys. We'll see you three at dinner."

With light-hearted humour, the trio of wizards bowed to their troika Slytherin goddesses - as they should, Pansy thought - and left. When the door shut behind Theo's bum, the three women looked at each other and erupted into giggles.

This was definitely the type of therapy that Pansy had needed to get over Ron _wanking_ Weasley's cruel taunting from earlier that morning. Being fawned over by three delicious, wicked men was definitely a boost to one's ego.

**X~~~~~~~~~X**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland  
Seventh Year's Herbology Classroom  
Friday, June 12, 1998 (afternoon) _**

Theo met with Professor Sprout for his final exam review immediately after lunch during Herbology class. He spent a good ten minutes discussing her recommendations – she highly encouraged him to wizarding university to further study the particulars of magical and non-magical plants, as his knowledge of the subject, she'd claimed, was exemplary – and then took his seat next to Draco and Blaise.

Lounging back on his elbows in his chair against the empty desk behind him, he considered this afternoon's impromptu meeting with the girls in the loo again. "Hey," he hedged, getting the attention of his two friends. "What do you think of Daphne?"

Draco smirked. "She'll eat you alive."

Blaise's answer was to shrug in a noncommittal gesture that told Theo nothing.

"You've shagged her?" he dared to ask his friend, feeling an odd jealousy ping about his ribcage at the thought.

"No."

Usually, Zabini was tight-lipped about what he did behind closed doors, finding it impolite to brag, so when he actually committed to saying that he didn't do something, you could trust he was telling the truth.

"You _want_ to shag her, though?" he pressed the issue, wanting to be crystal clear where the guy stood concerning the girl. He and Blaise had been awkward around each other since third year, and he didn't want to upset their recovered friendship by pursuing the same witch as his roommate.

Blaise shook his head again, making it clear that he had no feelings whatsoever for the witch in question.

"Good." At least that much was settled. Now Theo could pursue Greengrass without any regrets. He kicked a foot against the desk in front of him. "Wonder who she's taking to the formal?"

"Entwhistle," Draco replied, always seeming to know the newest gossip around the castle without any obvious sources.

He pulled a face. "Why would she want to go with a tosser like him?"

Chuckling, Malfoy shook his head. "Because that 'tosser' is intelligent enough to have a decent conversation without it devolving into sexual innuendo."

Theo pondered that for a bit. "Hell, I could give her stimulating dialogue _after_, if she wants. I could spew out an entire discourse on magical water plants found in the Brazilian rainforest, if she'd let me fondle her jugs just once!"

Neither of his friends said anything more on the subject, leaving him to grumble and turn-over what he knew and thought of Daphne Greengrass over the years.

It hadn't been until recently that he'd begun noticing her. Prior to the Easter break, he'd thought of her as somehow cold and untouchable, but when they'd both returned a few days early and happened to both decide to sit in the Slytherin common room on the couches and read silently before the fire one afternoon, he'd begun noticing the little things she did that made her seem more… human. For instance, she often mimicked the emotions of the fictional characters within the stories she read. Her face became a mask of true honesty as she smiled or became upset because of the plot of her books. She also twirled her long, golden-blonde hair while reading and preferred to tuck her legs up under her, leaning against a couch arm as a favourite comfortable position. There was, when he inspected her closer, a softness to her face and body that was certainly compelling, despite the iciness of her husky tone when she spoke.

He grew hard in his trousers just thinking about her soft curves now.

Right, so Greengrass was a dichotomy just dying to be explored, and Theo - who had been kicking about the idea for the last two months of getting a taste of her sugar – decided then and there that he was going to be the man who did just that! Maybe he'd even be the one to finally melt that icy core of hers, and bring out the warmth he'd occasioned to spy during those few days she'd sat across from him reading in silence.

**X~~~~~~~~~X**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland  
Dining Hall, then Corridor (Hidden Nook), then Gryffindor's Girls Dorms (Hermione & Lavender's Room)  
Friday, June 12, 1998 (evening) _**

Ginny pecked at her chicken, spinach and mushroom pie while trying to quell the excitement in her belly. Harry had informed them all that at seven o'clock tonight, Malfoy would approach them to pass out their blank cards for tomorrow night's big game, and Hermione had given them all a run-down back in their common room just before dinner, of what she knew of the game through her research on it. There hadn't been much, her friend had admitted, but at least being armed with some knowledge was better than going in ignorant.

Fidgeting in nervous excitement now for the appropriate hour to arrive, unable to contain her anxious energy levels, Ginny accidentally spilled the entirety of her apple juice on the plate to her immediate right. "Sorry, Neville," she apologized, watching the flaky crust of her friend's meal soak up the too-sweet beverage. "I've gone and ruined it now."

Always so gentle and kind, Neville shook his head. "No, it's fine. I thought it needed a bit of flavour added anyway."

She gave her friend an understanding smile and a small kiss on the cheek. "You really are too good a fellow, you know."

Nev's cheeks exploded with colour and he looked down at his plate, clearly embarrassed, stammering a muttered, unintelligible reply. Ginny couldn't help but be amused. Neville Longbottom was just _so cute!_ And innocent… something she hadn't been in a while. She sighed for her lost virtue.

Reaching her glass into the middle of the table to request a refill, she happened to look up and across the room at that moment…

…and locked eyes with one clearly-incensed Blaise Zabini, whose dark gaze travelled between her and Neville and back again with obvious disdain.

Astonished, she nearly knocked her drinking cup over again. Harry saved her this time as he reached across and grabbed it before it could tip. "Gin, you okay?" he asked, concerned by her uncharacteristic clumsiness.

Pulling her attention away from the glittering black depths of her bitterest Quidditch rival's stare, she focused on her ex-boyfriend instead. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" she asked, shaken to her very core.

Over the last two years, there had been a lot of animosity between her and Zabini, as was only natural given their positions as Chasers pitted against each other on the Quidditch field, and the fact that they were in two opposing Houses. However, this was the first time she could ever recall him looking at her with naked, untamed anger. Usually, he preferred sneering down his nose at her, or viciously smirking in her direction. What had she done to provoke such a strong emotion in him this time?

"I asked if you're all right?" he inquired again, focusing on her with narrowed-eyed concern. "Are you ill?"

That was the third time in the last two days he'd asked about her health. Secretly, Ginny was suspicious that her ex was seeking any excuse to call her unfit for the game tomorrow night. Harry, she knew, was a little too possessive and overly-protective of the people he'd 'claimed' for his own, and the thought of possibly sharing her or allowing her under the thumb of some unscrupulous Slytherin didn't sit well with him, she knew. She understood, however, where those tendencies originated - in his lonely childhood – and simply couldn't hold his possessiveness against him as a result.

Forcing a placating smile, she attempted to appear calm and in control of her nerves. "I'm perfectly fine, Harry," she reassured him. "Just a bit of gas."

Next to her, Neville began choking on his food, and had to cover his mouth with his napkin to prevent food particles from spraying the table. Ginny tried hard to cover her smile, but failed miserably when Seamus banged the table with an open palm and belted a hearty guffaw. He raised his glass of Mulled Mead – Madam Rosmerta's non-alcoholic blend, which was allowed at Hogwarts; it was Sea's favourite drink, as he always called it up with his meals - and saluted her.

"Honestly, Gin," Hermione giggled to her left. "Sometimes you say the most shocking things!"

"Got you to laugh, though, didn't it?" Ron asked around a mouthful of food from across the table from them, sitting at Harry's right. He swallowed. "Haven't heard you do that in over a month."

Hermione cleared her throat. "Yes, well, unlike some, I take final exams seriously."

Ron snorted, picking up his glass of pumpkin juice for a sip. "A little too serious, if you ask me."

Lavender scooted down to Ron's right, now that Parvati had excused herself to sit with her sister at Ravenclaw's table. "That's because studying has always been Hermione's sport of choice, Ron. You've got Quidditch, and she's got her revise charts. You've just never understood that."

"What's there to understand?" Gin's brother bantered back, shovelling another pile onto his fork and preparing it for open-mouth entry. "She's a little tooobsessed with books, I tell you."

"Says the man who owns every Chudley Cannons branded item on the market," Harry countered with a mocking grin.

They all enjoyed a good one at that as Ron's cheeks turned an interesting shade of magenta.

It was in that moment that Hermione nudged Ginny in the ribs, and indicated with a nod of her chin that she was to look over at the Slytherin table. Peeking around Harry, Ginny dared another glance in the direction of her rival. This time, he indicated with his eyes and a tilt of his head for her to meet him outside in the hallway. She traded a silent message with Hermione, who nodded.

Was this it, then? Was this when Malfoy and the others would meet them with their cards? It was a quarter to seven now.

Her stomach fluttering with pixies, Ginny politely patted her mouth with her napkin, having eaten her fill, and made her excuses about wanting to enjoy a long, relaxing soak in the Prefects' bath before turning-in for the night. Hermione and Lavender offered to join her – as did Seamus, who was flatly turned down.

The three ladies tucked their utensils in proper, and headed out together. When they reached the hallway, an unmistakable, "_Psssst,_" from a small, curtained alcove to one side of the Grand Staircase called their attention. It was Pansy Parkinson. "Draco said to wait for him and the others here," she whispered, replacing the Silencing Charm over the fabric entrance after checking to make sure no one had seen them duck behind the purple cloth. She, Tracey, and Daphne stood against one wall, so Ginny leaned against the opposite side, checking out the competition. 'Mione and Lav huddled at her side doing the same.

For a full minute, there was a strained silence that simply begged to be filled.

"So," Ginny began, wanting to suss out the manoeuvering of genders for this game. "I'm going to ask the really important question." Five pairs of eyes focussed on her as she dramatically paused for effect. "What's everyone wearing tomorrow night?"

Tracey tittered, and then tried to hide her amusement behind her hand in embarrassment.

"Well, it _is _sort of important, don't you think?" Ginny asked, feigning interest in her nails just then.

The three Slytherins shared their own silent communication with their eyes, and in that instant, she realized how similar she and her friends were to this group of girls who had stood on the opposite side of the fence for so very long.

Pansy shrugged. "We figured we'd get prettied up."

"Actually," Tracey corrected with a wry smile, "the boys asked us to. I'm wearing one of my Yule Ball alternate dresses."

Ginny straightened, unfamiliar with the term the other witch had used. "Alternate dress? You mean, like, you bought a second dress just in case you decided you didn't want to wear your first choice?"

"You do that, too!" Lavender squeaked in pleased surprise. "Thank Merlin! I thought I was the only wishy-washy girl out there who couldn't settle on a dress!"

Daphne bent down to adjust her knee-high socks. "It seems to be a trait we share, as I also will be draped in a secondary choice, although mine was originally intended for the Formal next week."

"Hmmm… well, I suppose I could wear the dress I planned to for next week's dance as well," Hermione considered, chewing her bottom lip in thought. "I can shop for a different one next Wednesday, as classes will be officially over for seventh-years then." She looked up at Ginny. "You'll be done by then as well, right? We could go together. Make a day of it in Diagon Alley! I'm sure Dumbledore would grant permission, so long as we promise to be back by dinner."

Lavender cooed. "Ooooh, sign me up, too!"

The idea of spending good Galleons on several dresses – some of which you might not ever wear – seemed odd to Ginny, but she went with it. "We're talking shopping, lunch, and ice cream, right? Seriously, you had to ask if I wanted in?"

Her best girl friend looked across the space between them, and directed her question to Pansy. "And you?"

Parkinson's stare was even, unfazed, and clearly weighing how much to say. She gave a casual shrug, crossing her arms over her chest at the same time. "I've got a costume I wanted to wear last Halloween. It's a gothic-style dress."

Hearing that, Ginny's heart did a teeny jig. "Well, at least someone with some taste around here," she smirked. "I prefer the Romanticism counter-culture myself, so I'll copy the idea, if you don't mind. I've got just the thing sitting in my trunk, just dying for a chance to air."

Tracey looked at each of them. "It's settled then," she brought them to an accord. "We'll dress to dazzle!"

"How sinful of you all," Malfoy mock-chastised, stepping through the entrance. "Conspiring behind our backs like this, ladies. Tsk, tsk." Following him was the rest of the gaming group. Everyone hurried in and took up spots against the two walls, just as the girls had earlier.

With a sigh of disgust at Slytherin's Prince, Pansy waved her wand over the entrance again, assuring its privacy. 'Mione followed it up with a spell of her own that Ginny didn't recognize. She turned to the group, noted the variety of questioning gazes and shrugged. "Doesn't hurt to be thorough," her housemate explained. "And, I even added an extra spell that blends the entrance into the wall. Unless you knew this place was here all ready, you wouldn't know it existed at all."

Malfoy's smirk meandered up his cheek. "Like the Room of Requirement. Clever," he complimented. "But then, I'd expect no less from the _Head_ Girl."

The earlier comfortable camaraderie that had begun with the women was erased in an instant with that one comment. The Gryffindors crowded closer together in the already-overcrowded space and faced off against the Slytherins, trading glares. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and stared her blond arch-nemesis down. "You just can't help being a foul-mouthed git, can you?" she asked, shaking her head in resigned cynicism. "I think it must be a consequence of all that Malfoy in-breeding."

Opening his mouth to retort, it was a surprisingly quick Daphne Greengrass who slapped a hand over Draco's face and stopped him cold. "I do not doubt that the scathingly adroit rejoinder you planned to launch at Miss Granger would generate hours of endless self-gratification, Mister Malfoy, but need I remind you that we have a distinct purpose here tonight, and that belaying said task may, in fact, result in our imminent discovery by a member of the staff sooner, rather than later?"

There was a pause as everyone digested what she'd just said.

"Wow, that was so totally hot," her brother muttered from somewhere off to her right. "She made a scolding sound sexy!"

Ginny felt like sinking into the floor. Only Ron could make the seriousness of the moment inappropriately charged with sexual intimation.

"You said it!" Theodore Nott chimed in from the other side of the aisle. "Smart girls get you hard!"

Ginny actually groaned and slapped her face into her hand, realizing in a second that there was truth to the myth that everyone had a like-minded doppelganger out in the world somewhere. In this case, her older brother was standing not three feet away from his own.

When she turned back to focus on the team across from her, Draco was already charming open a Bag of Holding and pulling out a wooden box that looked like it might have come from the Victorian Era. He plunked it down into Pansy's hands and opened it, extracting a deck of oversized cards. They were about the size of two Muggle playing cards placed top to bottom, and about as wide sitting side by side. Leaning forward, Ginny was able to fully appreciate the beauty of the artistry on the backs: a full-colour image, deeply burnished with bronze and gold foil paints depicting the mythological paradigm of true love, Eros and Psyche.

At the top of an arching canvas stood the moon and the sun on opposite sides, the stars twinkling in between. In the far-off background of the cloud milieu was a fantasy castle with glimmering spires that reminded her distinctly of Hogwarts. In the centre, hypnotically pulling one's attention, the lovers embraced – Psyche draped in a shimmering gold swath of satiny fabric, her hair pulled into a half up-do by layers of metal combs and twisted and looped by glistening foil leaves, the long, aureate strands winding down her naked back. Held in her tight, desperate embrace was her Cupid, whose profile was hidden behind Psyche's, his cheek pressed into her temple. Short, phoenix wings made of golden feathers erupted from his back, sensuously curling at the ends. He was completely naked, although his body was mostly hidden as it pressed intimately into his paramour's curves, shielded by her flowing, molten dress. It was an erotic post, yet innocent at the same time.

It was Psyche's face that drew one's attention however, as a miniscule tilting to the image's pouting ruby lips denoted a hidden sorrow that tugged at the heart. Usually, Ginny he wasn't one for ominous signs or scrying for portents, but in that moment, a chill crept up her spine and she had her first taste of doubt about this whole design. Glancing at the faces of everyone else, though, she noted that only two others seemed to share her reservations – Sea and 'Mione. The others appeared engrossed in watching the proceedings or each other, barely taking an interest in the artwork on the back of the deck.

Malfoy divided the cards up and counted them out. He then looked from one face to the next as he made his presentation. "First, I'm required to go over the rules of the game," he stated. "As the Lead Challenger, that makes me head of Slytherin's team. As the Contender, Potter serves as the head of Gryffindor's. As such, either of us may, at any time before the actual game begins, forfeit the match for our team." He smirked. "But I think we can pretty much state here and now that's not going to happen, right?"

There was a chorus of nods and ascent from both sides of the narrow aisle.

"Good, now that's out of the way," Malfoy continued, "it is part of the convention that I lay down the game play. Even if you know this already, I'm obligated by the rules to reiterate. So, pay attention because I'm not wasting time tomorrow night repeating this cripe."

He then launched into a full explanation of the purpose of the game, and how it was played, including the purpose of each of the four different colour-coded decks. "Again, the red cards represent the _Deeds_ cards. The blue are the _Forfeits_. Green is for _Interrogations_. And the gold card is the _Partners_ deck." He showed an example of each, holding it up and moving it from side to side slowly. "Don't mess it up when you're writing your questions, punishments, and rewards, because nothing can be taken back once it's down on the card."

"What happens if two of us write the same question, or the same punishment or reward?" Ron asked from the back, his greater height affording him a good view even at such a distance.

Draco began passing out the cards – one _Partner_, two _Interrogations_, two _Deeds_, and two _Forfeits_ – to each player as he answered. "The cards are charmed, Weasley. Once you sign your name to the _Partner _card tonight, the game officially begins for you, and the spell on the deck aligns to all of the players who have signed their card before midnight tonight. If one of us writes something down that's too similar to the others, the cards will simply erase and prompt you to try again. That's why it's important to start right away on filling in the cards, because you don't want someone to trump your ideas." He glanced down at 'Mione as he passed her cards to her. "Remember that."

When everyone had their cards in hand, he took his wand out. "You mark up the cards by touching the tip of your wand to the blank side and thinking what you want to appear." He placed the end of his wand on the _Partner_ card in his hand and before their eyes, his name appeared. "To seal the cards and keep the content you've written on them frozen you simply keep your wand tip on the surface and say, '_Meus mos est vox_.'"

A bright, white light surrounded Draco and the card together for a moment as the magical contract was made, fading out in seconds.

"'_My will is word_,'" Hermione translated the Latin spell, a thoughtful expression on her face as she turned the cards over in her hands. "Interesting. Just like a Wizard's Oath."

Malfoy nodded. "Exactly like a Wizard's Oath - which means, you're promising to obey the rules and stay until the game is concluded, and not to speak of anything that happens in-game with anyone not involved in this set - ever."

Removing a honey-coloured lollipop from his mouth, Seamus gave a grunt. "An Oath o' Silence as well, then?" he asked.

Her Housemate's brogue was thicker than usual, which always indicated an elevated level of nervousness in him. Ginny shivered in response, loving the way the syllables rolled off the man's tongue. Even though he was an incredible man-slag, and she'd sampled him once, he was still a _very _sexy wizard. Sea could easily make a girl wet just by talking.

Another shiver danced down her spine, as a whiplash of anger slid across her magical aura. It felt as if she'd just been burned by fire. She glanced up, unsure of where it was coming from…

…and was skewered on Zabini's knowing, dark gaze across the way. From the daggers he was staring into the very heart of her, it was clear that he was incensed with her again.

What the hell had she done this time?

Annoyed with his cryptic emotional displays, Ginny simply raised an eyebrow at him and flattened her expression, letting him know in a simple look that she wouldn't let him intimidate her, and she could care less what his problem was. His lips twitched in rising fury and she pointedly turned away, determined to ignore him from then on. Whatever his problem with her was, she refused to allow it to affect her mood.

"Questions?" Draco addressed them again. "Last chance."

"You collectin' these before or at the game?" Ron asked for clarification.

Malfoy _tsk'd_, clearly believing the answer should be obvious. "At the game. Hold onto them until then, and for Slytherin's sake, don't let anyone else see them – especially teachers. This is a forbidden game on campus, don't forget, and I don't relish expulsion a week away from graduation."

"Who's setting up the Room of Requirement?" Harry asked, once more reaching for his phantom glasses, noting the behaviour and changing it at the last second to run his fingers through his short hair instead.

Draco shrugged. "I'll do it - if you trust me?" He grinned like a shark, all white teeth in that pale, pointed face.

Harry stared hard at him. "No, I think we'll do it together, if you don't mind."

Always so polite, Harry was. It's too bad their chemistry didn't mesh, Ginny thought, because he'd have been the perfect guy for her. He was the romantic, wanting to take his time making love for hours, never rough, always soft and patient. Ginny liked things a little harder, more desperate, though. It was this incompatibility in the bedroom that had driven them apart. Tragic, really.

Malfoy snickered. "Fine by me, Potter. Shall we meet at half past six tomorrow night in front of the room? We'll arrange it as necessary when we get there."

Harry nodded. "Deal." He raised his card, magically signed his name with his wand, and then spoke the charm to commit to this course of action.

Following their teammate's lead, the rest of the Gryffindors and Slytherins did likewise. Once everyone had bound themselves to the game, Malfoy turned towards the fabric door, peeking out, making sure the coast was clear. He turned back once, grinning with glee. "See you tomorrow night, kiddies. Don't forget your hankies." With that, he was gone, Zabini and Nott following close behind.

Eventually, they all made their exits together, girls going next in groups of three. When they retired to their House common room, the six Gryffindor teammates looked askance at each other, nodded, and left for their dorms without another word. Ginny followed Hermione and Lavender back to their room. Pavarti was out, probably hanging with her sister for the evening, as the two liked to bunk over in each other's rooms every other weekend, to hang with the boys from that House during that time. Apparently, it was a Ravenclaw weekend for her friend. That worked out just splendidly as far as Ginny was concerned.

Locking and bespelling the door for privacy, Hermione indicated them to all flop down on her bed. "We should work together on our cards, so we don't duplicate any efforts and waste precious time. You heard the Ferret about getting down an idea first. I've got some ideas that I'm praying a Slytherin doesn't take."

Ginny considered it. "I don't mind sharing the fun," she admitted. "In fact, if we do it together, we'll get it done quicker."

Lavender nodded. "Sounds good to me, too." She put her cards down on the red and gold coverlet, and separated them by colour. Picking up a blue _Forfeit_ first, she held it up. "I think we should do punishments first, though, since I'm sure the Slytherins will immediately jump on that."

'Mione chuckled. "If I know Malfoy, that will be the first cards he'll reach for, followed by the _Deeds_."

Ginny held up her blue card as well. "All right then, what kind of penalties shall we invent to torture our fellow players?"

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S N****OTES:**

**Two-fingered salute:** In Britain, we give the "middle finger" to someone by turning our hand out and waving our index and middle fingers at a person in a 'come hither' way rapidly. It means essentially the same thing as saying, "fuck you," to someone.

**Madam Rosmerta's Mulled Mead recipe** is an actual drink served at The Three Broomsticks. Since they serve Butterbeer – another Hogsmeade specialty brew, which is slightly alcoholic - at Hogwarts for special functions (it's served at Slughorn's Christmas party in "Half-Blood Prince" novel, for instance), I figured another Mulled Mead would fit right in and be seen as harmless by the staff, since it's non-alcoholic. Here's the recipe (source: ):

Ingredients:

1 quart of water

1 cup of honey

1/2 teaspoon of nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon of ginger

1/2 teaspoon almond extract

Directions:  
Step 1: _Add all ingredients to a pan, and bring to a boil on the stove. _  
Step 2: _As it begins to boil, a skin will form on the surface. Scrape it off, and continue to stir the contents of the pan until the scum ceases to form. _  
Step 3: _Allow to cool, and enjoy! _

**Bag of Holding:** A bag with an Undetectable Extensions Charm placed upon it. The term is an old roll-playing gaming term.


	2. Chapter 2: Partners & The 1st Question

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

Since I am discovering the joy of opening up my stories to my readers in new ways, I decided to experiment with this fanfic. Therefore, I have three contests I want to pose to you, my fabulous readers, for that story. Here are the details:

**CONTEST #1:** Send me your digitally-manipulated images of real life people representing our favorite six couples (must be the couples as they are matched up together in this chapter - you can't mix and match, sorry!). I'll put them all up on my Photobucket site **(**_** s905 . photobucket albums / ac260 / RZZMG**_**) **and list you as the fan-manip art maker & link to them in the story itself so others can see your work. I'll take submissions right up until the very last chapter. _NOTE: if your image is too risque for Photobucket, I'll link it in my blog instead (__** rzzmg . wordpress . com**__). _At the end of the story, I'll vote on my favorites and make a special banner for winners.

**CONTEST #2:** Send me your fan art drawings (can be hand drawn or digitally drawn) of any of the following - our six couples, the group hanging in the main area of the Room of Requirement, or your favorite scene from the story. I'll post those images (with all accolades to you, of course) on my Photobucket site and link to them in the story so others can appreciate your work, too! I'll take submissions even long after the story is finished, so send them any time (obviously, only submissions made before the final chapter is posted will get a message in the story itself, but others will get noted here on my blog)! _NOTE - like contest #1 above, if the image is too risque for Photobucket, I'll link it in my blog instead. _At the end of the story, I'll vote on my favorites and make a special banner for winners.

**CONTEST #3:** I'm looking for MUSICAL SONG recommendations for each officially matched couple in the story. The music has to have lyrics - that's the only requirement. Any genre of music is acceptable (country, pop, R&B, modern rock, classic rock, rap, trance, metal, etc.). I'll take submissions right up until the final chapter is posted, so don't be shy - send me your lists! Every chapter, I'll pick the best song of the bunch that fits that particular couple during that particular action round. I'll add it to the _AUTHOR'S NOTES_ section at the top and bottom of that chapter, with all kudos to you for picking the appropriate music to fit the chapter's mood.

Without further ado...

* * *

_**MUSICAL SELECTION THIS CHAPTER: **__I, your author, will start the ball rolling this first time. I recommend the song, __**"Voulez-Vous" by The Cast of 'Mamma Mia' (cover of ABBA song) **__for this go around. Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

* * *

**_CHAPTER TWO: PARTNERS & THE 1st QUESTION_**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland_**

**_Room of Requirement_**

**_Saturday, June 13, 1998 (evening)_**

In the Room of Requirement, the game's twelve participants sat in the designated common area on the cosy, circular couches provided in advance by both Harry and Malfoy's joint efforts. On the coffee table between them sat three stacks of cards, arranged by color, all face down. Each group pile had been shuffled by both team leaders several times to ensure blending and fairness. A fourth stack was separate from the others; it contained all of the cards with the female players' names.

It was rather fortunate, Hermione thought, that the spell on the cards would know not to pit Ginny with Ron, as they were siblings. She had asked Malfoy to double-check the rules that had came with the set, and he'd confirmed that direct relations couldn't be paired. Thank Godric! At least the game had _some_ moral values.

Each player waited in silence for the castle bell to chime the seven o'clock hour. Most seemed lost in his or her own thoughts, a few looked about, and everyone fidgeted to some degree.

Hermione used the time to take a good, long gander at the others. Every single player had dressed chic and were done up smart, and there was an undercurrent of sexiness to each outfit – from dipping cleavage to snug trousers, from perfume to accessory choices - as if all of them were somehow eager to use this game as an excuse for some naughty experimentation. Even Hermione had to admit that she had dressed provocatively, not wanting to be outdone by Pansy or Lavender – the two women in the room she most envied for their lovely style.

The ladies, as agreed, had all worn dresses.

Directly across from her, Tracey had on a floor-length peacock-print that shimmered iridescent purple, lavender, and indigo blue. Silver embroidery outlined the feather and fan-shapes printed on the dress, and the cross-over 'vee' neck gave a nice hint of cleavage, but not too much to make the dress seem slaggy. Her silver shoes with the jewel strap, as Hermione could see from how she crossed her legs, accented her pretty arched foot. Her toenails and fingernails were painted purple to match, and her frills consisted of purple marquis-cut amethysts in silver. They tastefully adorned her neck and ears and her right index finger. She looked quite elegant with her long, blonde hair pinned into a French twist, too, and classily applied make-up that highlighted her natural beauty.

To Tracey's right sat Daphne. The woman was a fascinating dyadic of opposites: Fae beauty hidden beneath a pair of sensible reading glasses, which she needed for this game and was too practical, it seemed, to remove them and face discomfort for the sake of fashion – a move Hermione heartily applauded. The witch's blonde hair was left down and curled at the ends, her make-up a little darker around the eyes, but was still rather modest. Her dress was a satin scarf style, flowing to her knees. It was a flower-paisley print in tones of light greens and blues, with black outlines. Like Tracey, her neckline plunged, as the dress was a halter, and her smallish breasts were highlighted well as a result. On her feet was a pair of dainty, matching ballet slippers with flowery designs on the toes. Her jewellery was made up of some light blue stone wrapped in silver – rather Celtic in design – adorning her middle ring finger on her left hand, her neck and on her wrist. Overall, she was the picture of a fashionable wood sprite – which was in absolute contrast to her deeply intellectual personality. Hermione found the resulting dichotomy intriguing.

Pansy's Parisian gothic dress was stunning. Made of velvet, silk and lacy-sheer fabrics, it draped down to her knees, a lovely purple-magenta and black ensemble, pierced by bright silver buttons and draping chains. She wore a pair of matching silk heels with black velvet bows. It was her jewellery, however, that truly captured Hermione's attention: a silver burnished snake ear drape in her left side, a matching silver burnished snake bracelet on her left wrist, and a black velvet collar with silver detail and teardrop black glass beads brought the entire piece together. Her hair was the same as always, softly brushed and shining dark brown, almost black, but unlike her fellow Housemates, Pansy went dramatic on the make-up. Her eyes were smoky, exotic with heavy liner and mascara and sparkling charcoal shadow. Her mouth was lined a very dark colour – near black – and filled in with a matching lipstick. Her pale cheeks had been dusted with blushing powder. She looked almost as if she was dressed for Halloween, but Hermione knew that in the Muggle world, she would have fit right into the Goth scene. Ostensibly, Pansy looked rather stunning.

On her left side of the Gryffindor couch, to Hermione's left, sat Ginny. Like Pansy, she was dressed in a costume, rather than typical dress robes. Of course, Ginny had developed a flair for the thespian style, her leisure clothing reflecting an old-world, piratical theme in general, with flowing shirts and skirts. Tonight's dress and matching jacket was – in a phrase – impressive in its originality, vivid and striking in its execution, and held just a touch of romance for good measure. Made of heavy embroidered material that was iridescent orange and red, the outer jacket looked very much like a Regency Era great coat, with flaring, wide sleeves and ribbons. The piece was tied in the centre by a narrow corset that was synched together with another ribbon. Silver buttons – three on a side – adorned the corset's middle. Under the jacket was a simple, black satin dress with spaghetti straps. The whole thing terminated at mid-thigh. In a bold move, Ginny decided to accent her outfit not with tall boots, but with sexy, mid-thigh stockings that had a narrow strip in the back of each that was done up with ribbon. On her feet, she wore black patent leather five-inch heels. Her accoutrements were meant to pull the piece together – a black satin throat collar with a large iridescent rose, red amber rose-shaped earrings, and a red amber and silver ring. Her hair had been tightly tied up into a ponytail at the top of her head, and left to fall down her back. Like Pansy, her makeup was dramatic – bright orange and red shadow, heavy liner, dark, cherry-coloured lips. She was absolutely remarkable, exuding a fantasy sexiness that definitely enticed all of the men in the room, especially Blaise, it seemed. The man's eyes had lit up with interest as soon as he'd spied her tonight.

To Hermione's right sat Lavender dressed in, remarkably enough, a satin sheath similar to Greengrass' dress. Like her name, the dress was lavender in colour, accented with brown, light blue and light yellow, in an exotic lotus blossom pattern. A brown satin ribbon tied into a bow at the apex of a tasteful 'vee' neckline, adding a flirty feel to the dress. She wore lavender heels, and dark purple amethyst heart earrings. On her right wrist dangled a very dainty silver bracelet with silver heart dangles of varying sizes and styles. On her left hand, a dark amethyst ring set in a silver heart setting sat on her middle finger. Her make-up was as tasteful as Daphne's as well; lavender shadow, brown liner and mascara, light pink lipstick. Quixotic and dreamy were the qualities she exuded.

As for Hermione… she'd fallen in love with her dress the minute she'd seen it in the Muggle store in downtown London's more 'chic-chic' district, and it had cost her a pretty pence, but she'd been careful with her money for years; all those Christmas and birthdays she'd been gifted money had gone right into the bank. She'd splurged on the dress, seeing as how it was her last year in school.

It was a floor-length, silk dress that simply flowed like water when she moved. The top was a halter style – the saleslady had called it 'Rome's Egyptian style' – with very little fabric to it, honestly. It had a thick, bejewelled collar, and was backless to the sway of her spine, so she wouldn't be able to wear a bra with it. It was a multitude of jewel-tone colours, printed almost like tie-dye, with fractal round patterns blooming up here and there, adding a three-dimensional visual texture. Creams, oranges, red, yellows, purples, aquas, pinks… they blended seamlessly, beautifully to create a montage of colour. On her feet were a pair of gold strappy three inch heels, and the only jewellery she allowed, so as not to detract from the dress, were a pair of golden dangle hoops with diamond butterflies, and a thin, bangle bracelet that was made of a multitude of crisscrossing wires in an interlocking pattern.

As for her hair, she'd pinned her hair up on the sides, allowing the remainder to curl down her back, and she'd tamed it so it would lay flat, not fuzzy, in shiny, shimmering waves. She'd gone dramatic on the make-up, though, so as not to be drowned out by the dress: dusky pink, bronze, gold shadow, dark brown liner and mascara, shimmering pink blusher, pink-strawberry lips.

The effect, in her opinion, was that she appeared sophisticated, with a touch of dreamy romance.

The men were equally as diverse in their clothing options as the women had been.

Blaise was dressed in a long-sleeved, dark purple silk shirt, a pair of black woollen dress slacks, and black, shiny shoes. He wore no ostentatious ornamentation, but Hermione had scented a cologne on him that hinted of frankincense.

Theo was all casual summer: black polo, white trousers, black shoes, brown belt. He looked comfortable and stylish, as if he were going out on a summer cruise around the harbour with a date. His hair had been combed, and he had shaved his usual five o'clock shadow. He smelled of pears and citrus.

Harry, like Blaise, had gone for practical-attractive: a dark green, long-sleeved cotton dress shirt that made his eyes pop, dark black dress slacks, and black, low-backed leather boots that had been polished. Around his neck was his favourite necklace, a gift from Sirius – a black leather cord with a silver Celtic tri-fecta pendant, which had been bespelled to give him mental clarity at all times, even when drunk off his horse. Hermione would give her right foot for such a charmed item! His cologne was subtle, spicy, like cedar and mint.

Ron had gone as dramatic as his sister, wearing an ensemble that ironically matched Ginny's. Hermione was, in fact, betting that Ginny helped her brother pick out the outfit and convinced him to wear it tonight, just so she wouldn't feel alone in her flashy fashion sense. A smartly dramatic, iridescent orange-red jacket cut in a Regency Era officer's uniform style was adorned with velvet cuffs and edging, with silver buttons up both sides of the divide. Underneath, he wore a black satin dress shirt. His pants were extremely interesting – tight in the inseam and hugging his body down to the ankles, where a zipper was attached to both legs. On his feet, he wore a pair of shiny, black leather shoes that had no obvious laces. His hair was gelled to stand on end, and as usual, he'd worn his diamond earring stud in his left ear; he'd gotten it pierced this year on his birthday, in a fit of rebellion and because he wanted to mimic his big brother, Bill. He'd shaved, too. Overall, he looked quite dapper. And he smelled good, as well – like spring grass and the fresh dew of morning.

Seamus had surprised her, appearing in a more formal, summer wool suit, complete with dress shirt and vest. Of course, he'd worn sneakers to "off-set the ponce look," as he'd referred to it. Personally, she thought that the dark grey outfit with the white collared shirt looked rather fetching on him, and gave him an air of maturity that he definitely could use, despite the sneakers. He smelled divine, however, like leather and whiskey.

Malfoy… Whoa. He'd gone with a look that left Hermione quite breathless, honestly, although she refused to admit it by even allowing her eyes to roam too long over him. Dressed in all white - a shocking first - he'd donned a pair of loose, summer-weight, cotton dress slacks, a thin white, cotton dress tank top (he'd left the top buttons open), and partnered the outfit up with a burnished silver and beige leather belt, and white, tie dress shoes. On his wrist, he wore a matching beige bracelet made of leather, and around his neck were strung three cords – one close to his throat, and the other two swinging down the open 'vee' of his shirt, showing off not only the silver dragon pendants he had hung from the ropes, but also an impressive physique that she hadn't known he'd sported. His hair was ruffled to look casually indifferent, much as Harry's had always been prior to him cutting it shorter this past spring. He was comfortably casual and steamily sexy as he sat across from her on the Slytherin couch, his full lips pouty, winter-grey eyes staring at the ceiling as he leaned his head back into the cushions, showing off a delicious expanse of bared neck.

As she stared at him now, Hermione grew decidedly uncomfortable… and in a way she hadn't expected. Between her thighs, she felt a bit sticky.

Determined not to think about Malfoy in that way, she turned her attention to fiddling with her bracelet instead, twirling it round and round on her wrist, fighting the urge to jiggle her leg.

As the first toll of the bell rang out throughout the castle and surrounding grounds, Draco looked up at Harry and nodded, and Harry turned to Seamus and tapped him on the leg. The men had drawn straws earlier to see who would go first to draw from the _Partners_ deck, and in what order.

Seamus stepped up to the set of gold cards and flipped the first one. His gaze travelled to Lavender. "Seems I'll be gettin' me second chance after all, angel," he slowly smiled, his green eyes warming as he crossed over to her and handed her his _Partners_ card – the one that had his magical signature on it. He kept hers in the trade.

Lavender looked positively astonished, blushing, and looked down at the floor, taking his card with shaky hands. "Oh," was all she said.

As Seamus returned to his seat, Blaise stood up next and took the top card off the pile next. His grin was positively feral as he silently read the name. Moving across to the Gryffindor side, seating himself beside Ginny on the couch, he passed her his _Partners_ card without a word.

Livid splotches of red painted her girl friend's cheeks. "There is no God," she sighed with resentment. Accepting his card, she leaned back into the cushions of the sofa, frowning, and crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive posture.

Zabini remained silent at her side, smirking in triumph.

Theo went next. His grin was cheery as he read off his name. "Hey, check it, Daph!" He showed her the card he'd pulled. "It's you and me, babe!"

Daphne adjusted the reading glasses on her nose. "So it would seem." She held out a hand for his card. He passed it off to her and sat at her side, too.

Hermione looked at the dwindling supply of cards and felt her heart racing, knowing who was next and terrified of her odds. One in three. There was still a one in three chance that she might end up with either Harry or Ron. _Oh, please. Oh, please. Oh, please, _she prayed to whatever deity might be listening in the great wide cosmos. She may have started all of this with the intent of making Malfoy pay for being an unbelievable arsehole all these years, but now that the reality had come down - specifically, that she'd had an opportunity to read the _Deeds _and _Forfeits_ of her Housemates in advance and knew what kind of depravity would go on during this game - she was regretting such foolhardy revenge planning. The idea of being the partner to Slytherin's Prince was decidedly dismaying.

Malfoy said nothing for several seconds as he flipped the name card. The tiniest twitch of his lips was all she needed to know her doom had been settled, however. She closed her eyes and swallowed the heavy heart-shaped lump in her throat. Ginny's hand on her knee to her left was the only anchor to her world of sanity in that moment.

A presence stood over her, and in graceful surrender, she held her hand out knowing what was expected of her. To her astonishment, Malfoy did not simply pass his _Partners_ card to her. Instead, he bent one knee before her, and caught her hand up in his own. With a chivalrous flourish that shocked her into meeting his gaze head-on, he pressed a kiss to the back of her knuckles. Pools of lively, heated mercury stared directly into her soul.

"It's been our _raison d'être_ from the beginning to cross swords again and again, Granger," he said. "What made you think tonight would be any different?"

Something in the way he'd phrased that… "Did you cheat?" she challenged, yanking her hand away and rubbing the imprint of his lips against her skin away with disgust, feeling real ire grow in her belly. If he had defrauded the game it would automatically disqualify the both of them – something she was praying for just then, as that meant her team would get a win from it, and she wouldn't have to touch him. The cards would make him answer honestly, too, as the spell upon them would insure his truthfulness now that he'd signed the magical contract and bound his will to the rules.

"No," he told it to her straight, and she felt her heart sink again, "but I tried to. The game wouldn't let me. It prevented my spell. This time" - he held up her name card and passed her his - "it was definitely all Fate, princess." He stood to his full height, which stood only an inch or so shy of Ron and Theo. "Personally, I can't wait to find out all of your secrets, beautiful."

Staring at the card in her hand as he made his way back across the room, Hermione felt hot tears waver before her eyes. She blinked them away, refusing to appear weak. The others had accepted their destinies with some small measure of grace - even Ginny, who had seemed to want to rail about the unfairness of it all at the top of her lungs, but had simply sat back and quietly sulked – so she could do the same. She was a Gryffindor, after all, and that meant she'd take this hit on the chin and get back up.

Harry was next. He blushed when he read the name he chose, a shy expression lighting his features as he glanced over at Tracey Davis. "It seems we're partners tonight," he told her, heat blooming across his face and neck.

Tracey's smile was equally self-conscious. "Oh, well, that's… good," she replied, accepting his name card, her own face as crimson as Harry's.

"At least someone's happy around here," Ron stated, his disappointment obvious. He flashed Pansy her name card – the last in the stack. "I have a feeling this isn't going to be a good night," he told the woman who was staring at him with irate fury.

"No," Pansy replied, her tone ice cold, "it _definitely_ will not be."

**X~~~~~~~~~X**

Now that the partners were fixed, the two teams resumed their proper seating across from each other, and Malfoy and Harry tossed a Galleon into the air to see which side would draw the first _Interrogations_ question. The Slytherins won the toss.

As Theo was on the furthest edge of the couch on one side, he reached for a green card to start them off.

Malfoy stopped him by holding up his hand. "Last chance," he offered them all. "Anyone want to chicken out, now's the time."

Eyes moved around the room at record pace, gauging who would might decide to forfeit. A few faces, including her own, Hermione knew, looked fondly towards the room's exit, but no one moved. Hell, no one _breathed_.

After a wait of a minute, Malfoy nodded.

"Ladies, time to cast the Contraceptive and Disease Charm," he instructed the witches in the room. "No unintended pregnancies tonight. And don't forget to recast the C&DC at the beginning of every action round, too, after the questions are answered. It's not my job to remind you."

Each of the women picked up their wand from the centre table and did as instructed. Madam Pomfrey had been particularly vigilant in assuring that all of the girls in school – from fourth year on up - knew this particular charm by heart.

When that was done, and the pink glows had faded out, and everyone's wands were returned to the table, Theo turned over the first card. "It's one of my own!" he informed them, leering. "Right, so, here we go: If you had to go down on your partner right now in front of the group because of a card, would you secretly like it, feel indifferently or hate it?"

He turned to his left to Pansy, as the rules required, and the game commenced.

She snorted, tapping her foot on the floor twice in a gesture of sheer irritation. "Stupid question. Hate it, obviously."

"Feeling's mutual, beeotch," Ron snarled, crossing his arms and striking a pose similar to his sister.

Malfoy buzzed him. "No answering out of turn, Weasley." He pointed to Parkinson. "Pans, take a _Deeds_. No, not the blue deck. The red one." With an imperious motion with his hand, he commanded the group back on task. "Daphne, you're next."

Greengrass pursed her lips together and let her eyes roam over Theo in contemplation. "I would most likely enjoy it," she decreed after only a slight pause.

Theo nearly dropped the green card in his hand. "S-seriously?" he asked, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

Daphne re-adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose and nodded. "Yes, I enjoy dominating a man," she admitted, reaching for a _Deeds_ card now that she'd answered the question. "It arouses me to bring him to the heights of erotic pleasure, only to watch him unravel under my touch."

Almost every person in the room performed a face-vault at her proclamation.

"Holy gobstones," Ron breathed out hard. "Why couldn't I have gotten you?"

"Next!" Malfoy required.

Blaise stared across the room at his partner and narrowed his eyes. "Oh, I'd loveto make her squirm under my tongue. Then she'd have to live with the fact that a Slytherin made her come harder than she ever had before."

Ginny stared hard at him through narrowed eyes, and turned her nose up at him with disdain, refusing to be cowed by Zabini's venomous glare. "Dream on," she grit. "You'd be lucky to get me wet."

Blaise reached for a red card. "I hope this reward lets me prove you wrong, little lioness," he snarled, putting it face-down on his knee. No one was allowed to read their _Deeds_ or _Forfeits_ until everyone had answered, per the rules.

Ron growled, and Harry had to nudge him to remind the man to tamp down on his natural urges to play the overprotective brother tonight.

Tracey, who was next in line, looked over at Harry, flushed and lowered her eyelashes. "Um… well, I'd… Do I have to answer?"

Malfoy shrugged. "If you want. If not, you'll have to take a Forfeits card, though."

The witch considered that for a moment, turning bright pink as she mulled over the risks. Finally, she seemed to come to a decision, her back straightening, her eyes lifting to her partner's with uncertainty, but a sincere resolve. "I'd... I'd..." She seemed to lose her bravado quite suddenly, her voice ending in a soft whisper, "really like it, I think."

From the corner of her eye, Hermione spied Harry turn an interesting shade of red and adjust the collar of his shirt, as if needing to loosen it. For a second, she wondered if her best male friend had ever had a woman do that to him, as she knew Ginny hadn't.

And now it was Malfoy's turn.

Hermione tried - _really, honestly tried_ - not to look at him when he answered this one, knowing he was going to scoff and laugh at the ludicrousness of this question in regards to touching her 'dirty' self. The answer was so painfully obvious, in fact, that her ego took the pounding with only a small pang. She wasn't vain, _per se_, but she was a woman who liked to be told she was desirable on occasion. That Malfoy thought her beneath him…

"Like it," he said, staring her in the eye when she glanced up in surprise again. "Very, _very _much," he finished, his patented naughty smirk sliding up the side of his cheek.

She blinked twice. "But-"

"Next," he cut her off, turning to Seamus, who sat directly across from him on the Gryffindor side. "Your turn."

Her partner reached for a _Deeds_ card with casual indifference, not looking at her again.

Hermione's heart was thudding in her chest so hard she almost passed out. Had Malfoy just said he'd like to eat her out? Really?

"It's one of me favourite things ta do," her Irish-lilting friend admitted to his partner with a lopsided grin. "So, of course, I'd love it!"

Lavender, who sat directly next to Finnigan, gaped at him as he reached forward and grabbed for a red card. "And that's why? Not because it's me, but because you like doing it?" she scathingly asked.

"No debate," Draco reminded her. "The card doesn't say we discuss the answers, merely that we answer them."

Lavender turned a cross look on him. "How he answers will determine _my _answer," she stated, quite put out. She turned back to Sea. "Well?"

Reaching out a hand, he gently chucked her under the jaw. "For both reasons, sweet angel," he explained with a foolhardy grin. "I've been wantin' ta do it ta ya fer years, but ya kept turnin' me down."

Cutting her eyes to the floor again, Lavender's blush returned. "Oh, well… My turn to answer, right? Well-" She swallowed, paused, seemed to struggle with herself. "I-I'd… _bloody hell_, I can't lie! It won't let me!"

Malfoy chuckled. "No, you can't lie. But again, you can choose a _Forfeit_ card if you want in lieu of answering."

With a resigned sigh, she reached for the card stack. "He answered it so I will. I'd like it," she grumbled and grabbed a _Deeds_ card. "Happy?"

"Very," Seamus purred, moving closer to her.

Lavender slapped his hand away as it landed on her knee. "That doesn't mean you can grope me."

"Not yet, anyway," Ron commented at her side, and shrugged those massive shoulders of his. "Well, my answer's obvious: like it."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, everyone froze in utter surprise – including Ron. He looked like he was about to suffer from apoplexy right there, his face ghosting white and his mouth gaping open.

"I meant… I'd loveit."

He blinked again, anger fast replacing his confusion, and began swearing.

Across the aisle, Pansy barked a vitriolic laugh. "I'll just bet you would, you pervert," she sniffed in dry amusement, smoothing the front of her dress.

"No commentary," Harry chastised in the manner of Malfoy, throwing the Slytherin team leader a "right back at you" look.

"FUCK!" Ron shouted, reaching for a _Deeds_ card. "This game so totally sucks!"

And then it was Hermione's turn, and her heart started pounding again. How _did_ she feel about the idea of touching Malfoy? Well, naturally, she loathed him, so… "Hate it, because I know he'd use it against me afterwards to hurt me in some cruel way," she spoke before she even had time to think up a proper response, blinking in surprise that it just popped out of her mouth.

Appalled, she put a hand up over her mouth, her eyes jerking to her partner's face. Slytherin's Prince stared back at her with a cool blankness that didn't seem natural to any form of mammalian species. He was so like a snake in that moment – so blank that she couldn't read him – that Hermione felt very much like the mouse before a hypnotizing cobra.

Everyone in the room had stilled again, glancing between her and Draco, as if they suspected violence to erupt at any moment. Thirty seconds ticked by, then a minute, and still no one moved. Finally, Hermione's hand fell to her lap and she reached for a red card, taking her eyes from her greatest rival's with severe anxiety fluttering through her chest.

It was Ginny's turn. She stared across the aisle at Blaise with an animosity that was unrivalled between any of the partners. "Hate it," she confessed, "because just like 'Mione, I could never like touching someone who wanted to hurt me."

Blaise's eyebrows twitched, but aside from that, he didn't say a word. Ginny grabbed a _Deeds _card from the stack, her wary gaze never leaving her partner's own black stare. Hermione reached out a hand and entwined her fingers with her best friend's in a show of supportive strength.

They finally came to Harry. He cleared his throat and looked over at Tracey. "Well, I don't really know you, do I? And I'm not sure I could like doing something that intimate with you if there was no emotional connection. I wouldn't hate the idea either, though, as you arequite attractive. I suppose, until things change – if they change – I'd have to say indifferent for now. But please understand that my answer has to do with my comfort levels, not because I don't find you physically desirable, because I do. Quite a lot, in fact. That dress only adds to the appeal - especially the cleavage."

"Whoa, maybe a bit too honest there," Teddy laughed, reaching across the narrow gap between couches to slap the Gryffindor on the shoulder, all chummy.

As Harry reached for a red card, Nott stared over at his partner, Daphne. "Oh, I'd love eating you out, baby, no question! Especially if you reached into that superior vocabulary of yours and started spouting off rare expletives every time you came for me." He leaned in a little close, smiling like a shark. "How many different ways can you say, '_oh, god, yes!_' do you think?"

Daphne turned her head and stared him dead on, unperturbed by his nastiness. "You may have the opportunity to find out during this challenge, Mister Nott - but only if you're a very good boy."

Theo's eyes brightened, widened, and his grin leapt to match. He grabbed a _Deeds_ card from the pile, excited to see what he would get.

_Probably hoping for an oral sex requirement now_, Hermione thought. She knew just how eager Theo was for pushing the physical with a girl.

"Everyone's answered, so you may all turn over your cards over and read them. You'll then be required to perform or receive a performance from your partner as the text on the card allows," Malfoy instructed. "If you need privacy, there are six rooms along the far wall – one for each couple," he threw a thumb over his shoulder, where a row of half a dozen closed, identical doors lined the wall. "They're all exactly the same – white on white furniture, walls, and flooring. If you want to change the room's décor in any manner, or add or remove any items from the room, simply think of the changes, and they'll happen in seconds. This is the Room of Requirement." He smirked and a wicked look entered his shark-skin coloured eyes. "Or, if you're into voyeuristic theatrics, you could also perform out here for the rest of us to watch - but you both have to agree to that plan, otherwise it's a private room for you."

He turned his card over and read it. His eyebrows hit the roof.

Uh-oh. That didn't bode well, Hermione thought.

Blushing, she turned her card over, too, and read the text across the cream-coloured backdrop:

**_DEED: Your partner must give you a sensual back and neck massage. Lips and tongue can be used._**

Bloody hell! It was one of Harry's rewards. Team Gryffindor shared their cards today at lunch, reading them over, so she recognized the handwriting.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Pansy shouted, getting to her feet. "This sounds more like a _Forfeit_ to me, not a _Deeds_!"

"Tough cookies, sugar," Ron sarcastically replied. "Whatever it is, let me tell you that we're both screwed. My card's equally as repulsive. As if I'd want to touch you!"

"Are either of you forfeiting the game then?" Malfoy asked. His tone was casual, but the undercurrent accusation of 'pussy' was clear.

"No!" the partners-at-war simultaneously chimed, staring at each other with suspicion.

"Then, I suggest you stop bitching and get going," Slytherin's Captain commanded. "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can move on." He nodded to Harry. "Time?"

Harry looked at his charmed pocket watch. "Thirty-seven past seven, exactly."

"The rooms will chime at you to tell you to come back out at around twenty-seven past eight. Everyone finish and be in this room no later than ten minutes past the chime or you're automatically out," he ordered. "Oh, and if you both agree that you're done before then, you can come back here and just wait around. I wouldn't touch the cards, though, as they're charmed for some nasty consequences if you try to cheat in any fashion." He stood and made his way towards a private room. "Good luck, people!" he waved over his shoulder.

Hermione stood on shaky legs. "Yes, good luck everyone," she murmured, then followed after her partner into his room of choice.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**_

**PLEASE REVIEW, FOLKS! What did you think of this chapter?**

.

**Musical Selection for this Chapter: **_**"Voulez-Vous" by The Cast of "Mamma Mia!" movie (adapted cover of ABBA song). Lyrics are as follows…**_

(Women singing)

_**People everywhere.  
A sense of expectation hanging in the air.  
Givin' out a spark…  
Across the room your eyes are glowing in the dark.**_

(Men singing)

_**And here we go again!  
We know the start, we know the end.  
Masters of the scene.  
We've done it long before,  
And now we're back to get some more.  
You know what I mean!**_

(ALL TOGETHER)

_**Voulez-vous?  
Take it now or leave it.  
Now is all we get.  
Nothing promised.  
No regrets.  
Voulez-vous?  
Ain't no big decision.  
You know what to do.  
La question:  
"C'est voulez-vous?"  
Voulez-vous?**_

(Women singing)

_**I know what you think:**_  
_**"The girl means business, so I'll offer her a drink."**_  
_**Looking mighty proud,**_  
_**I see you leave your table, pushing through the crowd.**_

_**And he'll be back again…**_  
_**You know the rules.**_  
_**You know the game.**_

(Men singing)

_**Master of the scene.**_

(Women singing)

_**We've done it long before,  
And now we're back  
To get some more.**_

(Men singing)

_**You know what I mean!**_

(ALL TOGETHER)

_**Voulez-vous?  
Take it now or leave it.  
Now is all we get.  
Nothing promised.  
No regrets.  
Voulez-vous?  
Ain't no big decision.  
You know what to do.  
La question:  
"C'est voulez-vous?"**_

_**And here we go again…  
We know the start…  
We know the end…  
Masters of the scene.  
We've done it long before…  
And now we're back  
To get some more…  
You know what I mean.**_

_**Voulez-vous?  
Take it now or leave it.  
Now is all we get.  
Nothing promised.  
No regrets.  
Voulez-vous?  
Ain't no big decision.  
You know what to do.  
La question:  
"C'est voulez-vous?"  
Voulez-vous?**_

_**Voulez-vous…?**_

_**Voulez-vous…?**_


	3. Chapter 2A: Draco & Hermione

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**fuzzychxrx **__recommended the song, __**"**_**A Little Less Conversation**_**" by Elvis Presley **__for Draco & Hermione this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Draco's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**fuzzychxrx **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

**PLEASE REVIEW, FOLKS! What did you think of this chapter?**

* * *

_**CHAPTER TWO (#1): DRACO & HERMIONE**_

Draco left the door open behind him, knowing Granger would follow without question. There really was no choice in the matter, unless she forfeited – which he was betting she absolutely wouldn't do in this game.

He was hoping she wouldn't either. He definitely wanted to get as much as he could out of this time together, knowing it would be the only chance he'd ever get the opportunity to touch, taste, or fuck Gryffindor's Princess. She definitely would never let him near her again after the game concluded, loathing him as she did.

Although, she'd actually blushed with undeniable arousal when he'd answered that he'd like to eat her pussy. He'd seen the glimmer of heat in her shocked gaze. And her answer when asked if she'd like to blow him had been negative only in so far as her fears of him using the incident against her later, not because she'd detest the idea of touching him. So, maybe she didn't hate him as much as either of them believed…

He caught a flash of brilliant colour from the corner of his eye as she entered and shut the door behind her. Circe's right tit, but that dress was fetching upon her! He'd love to take it off with his teeth… She didn't move towards the bed in the centre of the room, where he was currently sprawled, staring up at the too-white ceiling, clearly uneasy with coming closer.

Well, if she wasn't going to take the initiative, he would.

"Since I drew my _Deeds_ card first," he explained, "that means I go first to play it."

"I know," she replied.

He held his card up and read it aloud for her:

_**DEED: You partner must list out loud at least 10 good things about you.**_

There was a moment of silence, and then a deeply expelled breath and a small laugh in relief. "That's it? That's… oh, thank Merlin!"

Yes, well, Draco wasn't too pleased with his first draw. He'd really wanted something hot right out of the gate for her, but instead was stuck with a share-care card. Who the fuck wrote up such a wanky thing anyway? Obviously it wasn't a Slytherin.

"You can come into the room, you know," he told her, disappointment spoiling his stomach. "I'm not going to touch you this round, it seems."

Taking a moment to gather her courage, Granger stepped forward and leaned against one of the four large wooden posts that made up the bed frame. Her back and shoulders were ramrod straight with engineered bravado, and yet she remained just out of reach.

Draco sighed. He hadn't expected this to be an easy win, anyway. "All right, let's get started. Tell me how fantastic I am, Princess."

She rolled her eyes at the nickname. "Your list of drawbacks far outstrips your advantageous attributes, you know. It would be far easier for me to list your negative personality quirks instead."

He gaped at her. Gods, she could be such a bitch sometimes. It was one of the reasons he wanted her so badly. "You know, you've got one hell of a sexy, sassy mouth," he grinned, hoping to peck her off, turning the situation on its ear just to confuse her.

Granger arched an eyebrow at him, not rising to the bait. "Whatever. So, I'm expected to stack your ridiculously overblown ego. Fine, I can start by honestly saying that you're smart."

Draco couldn't help the morphing of his grin into a full-blown, toothy smile. "Really? Do tell, Granger. Just how intelligent do you think I am?"

His partner gave him a flat stare. "Clever enough to maneuver me into this game, hoping you'd be able to fix it so we could be together so you could attempt to humiliate me tonight. But not wise enough to research the cards you've been playing with enough to know the spell on them wouldn't allow such a thing. So, you're moderately smart, Malfoy, but not overly so."

Okay, that wasn't what he'd been expecting. Clearly, she was going to insult him every time she had to praise him. Fan-_fucking_-tastic. What a way to spend the next twenty-five minutes!

"Moving on," he charged, feeling a bit deflated by the fact that he knew these were her totally honest feelings about him, as the cards wouldn't let her lie. It bit to think she was judging the entirety of his intellect based solely upon this one minor, flawed expedition this weekend. Obviously, she was forgetting the other dozen or so schemes he'd concocted over the years that had been stupendously successful at wanking her off. "Because as compliments go, that one sucked. You're terrible at the game of flattery." He stretched his arms up and linked his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling and concentrated on changing its color to red, then green, then blue, then black, and back again to white. He amused himself thusly while she thought up the next tribute.

"All right, you've got the makings of a natural born leader," she stated, seating herself on the edge of the bed, her posture stiff. "Although you might want to work on learning how to be gracious and respectful to your minions, because you're terrible to them."

He barked a laugh. "Minions? Is that how you see my friends?"

"Crabbe and Goyle worship you, Malfoy," she reminded him. "And you mistreat them all the time, insulting them and getting them into trouble. That's not what a friend does."

Now she was treading into territory best left alone. "You know nothing of Slytherin politics, Granger. My House isn't like your touchy-feely, hearts and rainbows one where everyone holds hands and sings songs together. What I have always done to Crabbe and Goyle was so I could protect them. They're too dim-witted and just vindictive enough not to end up on the wrong side of the law someday. I kick them around to keep them in line, but give them a place of importance so they don't feel like common whipping dogs either. The first few years, just the protection of being associated with me – with my name and my father's reputation - also kept them from ending up some seventh-year's bitch in the men's showers late one night. And _yes_, Granger, that kind of thing happens – more frequently then you probably ever assumed," he replied to her gasp of disbelief. "Don't be so naïve." He glanced at her with a deep frown. "Basically, I keep my friends safe in a hierarchy they can fit comfortably within, so no one will take advantage of them and so they'll stay out of serious trouble. In return, they do me favors and accept my authority." He sneered at her now. "But then, I don't suppose you'd understand that type of power structure, seeing as how you come from the hippy flowers and sunshine House."

She was silent a moment, contemplating that. "You know, I never thought of it that way before. It's the law of the jungle in Slytherin - kill or be killed?" He bit her lip and sighed. "How very sad for you."

Ire crept into his belly, ruining his mood. "Judging my House? How sanctimonious you are, Granger! But then, it's common for Gryffindors to be so arrogant – and woefully unsophisticated about how the world really works."

"Cynic," she accused.

"Idealist," he indicted back.

They both sighed. This was clearly not something they were going to come to agreement to anytime soon, if ever.

"Next," he grumped, hating this game all ready. This wasn't turning out to be nearly as much fun as he'd hoped.

She was silent a bit longer, and he could sense a cautious tension in her. "Well…" she began, and from his peripheral vision, he spied her nervous twitching. "Another positive trait is that you're… well, a rather handsome specimen."

His battered ego picked itself up off the floor and crawled back up his spine then, his foul mood lightening a tad. "_Really?_" he inflected, feeling a small tilting of his lips force its way back into life. Not that he didn't know it he was rather attractive, but that Granger also thought him good looking was at least one bright spot in this whole debacle so far. It was something they could build upon, maybe, because it meant she didn't find him repulsive to touch, at the very least. "Do go on."

Clearing her throat primly behind a hand, he watched her attempt - and spectacularly fail - to remain detached. "You have rather classical features that provide a nice juxtaposition of the best traits in a man – a rounded jaw that is just square enough at the edge and the chin to provide a strong foundation, a straight, aristocratic nose, your eyes are set at an equal distance apart and are a lovely shade of grey-blue, your brows and lashes are a soft dark gold and give you just a tad of roguish shape, and your lips-" She paused, pinking now at the cheeks. "Your lips are… pillowy and… a nice shade of rose pink. Your teeth are a sparkling white and straight and even. Your skin is a tad too pale, but for some reason, it doesn't detract, highlighting your other colorful attributes instead. And you're always clean-shaven, showing you care for your appearance very much – which is an appealing trait in itself."

He sat up into a sitting position, encouraged by the fact that she'd taken that much effort to pay attention to his face. "And?" he prompted her to continue, wondering just how far her assessment of his physical characteristics went.

She wiggled in her seat. "Well, your hair is a lovely shade of pale gold-white – a very light champagne, and the way you style it makes you appear aloof, and yet impishly dangerous at the same time. The cut perfectly frames your face. Your ears lay just the right distance from your skull, not sticking out, and the lobes are detached and small – nice traits for a man." She rolled her shoulders, clearly uncomfortable, but unable to stop speaking the truth until it was all out, as the cards required. "Your… neck is elegant, not too long or too short or too thick. Your shoulders aren't extremely broad, but they are clearly well-defined." Her face flushed a darker crimson. "I can see how adequately you are muscled in that shirt and how finely your torso is cut. It's rather eye-catching. You're not too bulky, not too willowy, but lean and sleek, like a good Quidditch Seeker should be."

Showing more bravery than he'd ever given her credit for, she turned and looked down at his hands then, as if drawn to them against her will. In a soft, quixotic voice, much like the Lovegood bint often used, she described them. "Your hands are well manicured, strong, with long fingers just made for-" She broke off, looked away again, turning so that not even her profile was available to his perusal. "They seem made for playing the piano or composing long drafts for publication - that sort of thing."

She fidgeted in place some more, smoothing the front of her dress, clearly embarrassed by having to give a positive assessment of him that indicated her fascination – perhaps even an unconscious desire – for him. It was strange to hear the usually crisp, formal, harpy-like Granger speak to him thus. Draco found he rather liked this softer side.

Feeling the devil's teasing fever grip him, he scooted closer to her and held his two hands out where she would see them, pretending to evaluate them. "I never thought of my hands like _that_ before, you know," he commented, and it was the truth. He couldn't lie, after all. "But now I can see, you're quite right. I suppose my fingers would be perfect for gripping and smoothing a hard, stiff object - like a quill, for instance - or for stroking and gliding across playable surfaces with precise accuracy, to make them hum and sing for me."

To his amusement, the blush upon his partner's cheeks roved down her collar and over the tops of her breasts, and her breathing quickened just a tad. Well, well, well… Granger secretly had a hand fetish! How very fascinating, indeed.

"An interesting observation," he practically purred in delight at having gotten under her skin with just a few well-chosen turn-of-phrases. "Thanks for pointing that out to me, Beautiful. I won't be able to forget it now, every time I look at them."

Abruptly, she stood up and walked over to the opposite wall, looking into the ceiling-to-floor length mirror that spanned the whole length of the one side, pretending to adjust her earrings. "Yes, well, it's not as if you didn't know the rest, Malfoy. You make it a big deal to strut around this place as if you're an Adonis or something."

He stared at her in the mirror, letting a slow smirk wind its way up his face, knowing well how that expression charmed the opposite sex. "As long as _you_ noticed, Granger, I could care less what any other woman thought."

She froze, her eyes wide, her lips parted in shock.

He nudged his chin at her. "That was three things. Go on with your list. There are still seven left to go."

Blinking out of her stupor, she scowled at him in the mirror. "Egotistical prat."

"Straight-laced bint," he countered with no heat, enjoying the banter.

Rolling her eyes again, she moved over to a cozy chair, which seemed to have popped into existence at her thought. It matched the white-on-white décor of the room. Sitting back in it and crossing her legs, she put her elbows up on the arms and lounged back like some sort of Queen on her throne.

Draco's cock jumped in his pants at the sight. Founders be damned, she was _fucking _beautiful, wasn't she?

"You're rich," she pointed out next. "I suppose some people might call that a credit to a person's worth."

What an interesting way to phrase such a thing. "You don't?"

Delicate shoulders bunched up for a second in a shrug. "You didn't earn the money. You inherited it."

"And you can't respect that?" he predicted.

She shook her head. "No, not really. I believe in earning your way in the world."

Looking at her askance, he considered having this particular conversation with her at this particular moment. Should he? It might stir up a hornet's nest.

Or it could make her see him in a different light.

He threw his plan out there, to see where the chips would fall. "What if you found out that I intended on taking that inheritance and putting it towards worthy endeavors?"

Scoffing, she chuckled. "Like building up the family fortune?"

Tilting his head in shameless acknowledgment, he decided to share his vision for the future with her, and in so doing, finally shake up her understanding of who he really was once and for all. "That would be a by-product, yes, but my plans would benefit the community as well. It would provide jobs and educational opportunities – yes, Granger, what I plan _will _help educate people," he reiterated in response to her skeptical grimace.

"I have a three-tiered strategy already worked out," he explained. "I plan to expand the family business. We're currently invested in light commodities trading. First, with father and the Ministry's help, I want to open trade with the Asian markets for healing potions ingredients in their raw, plant forms. I want to import them here. I figure that will take several years of negotiation work, as the Eastern wizards are notoriously protectionist. Then, I'll offer the plants to Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang to care-take. They can use them in their teaching endeavors, and in return, they'll sell me their finalized harvests. The money I give them in trade should help them to pay the professors more than the pittance they're getting now, and maybe even help them come up with some stimulating programs for the students. Merlin knows they could shake this place up a bit with an interesting guest speaker once in a while."

He shrugged, as he wasn't interested in fixing the educational curriculum around here; he'd leave that to the Board of Governors. "For the third part of the plan, I'll take the finished products and sell them to apothecaries around the world. I plan to corner the market on potions ingredients distribution. I'll have a pile of Galleons to sleep on, and a staff of hundreds by the time I retire and turn the company over to my own son." He glanced at her and grinned. "Oh, and if you dare steal my idea and try to beat me to the market, Granger, I'll spank you _hard_."

Literally, she sat and stared at him in open-mouthed astonishment.

"Are you attempting to catch lacewing flies?" he joked.

Clamping her teeth together so hard he could hear the snap across the room, he watched in gleeful delight as Hermione Granger struggled over the concept that Draco Malfoy was more exceptionally creative than even she had anticipated.

"How… well… that is to say…" she stammered, obviously searching for the proper words to praise his ingeniousness.

He waited with bated breath for the moment she finally admitted aloud that he, her bitterest rival, was more discerningly calculating than even she'd given him credit for.

"How _ruthlessly inspired_ of you, Malfoy."

For a moment – just a fraction of a second – he took offense to her words. Then he realized what a great compliment she'd actually just given him and he smirked. "I _knew _you'd come to appreciate my slipperiness soon enough!"

She shook her head. "That counts as one of your ten things, I suppose. We're down to six." She tapped a painted fingernail against the chair arm in thought. "As for the rest: you play Quidditch rather well, are exceptionally good at potions, when you laugh with true sincerity it sounds nice, you have impeccable table manners, are well organized, and you smell rather pleasant on a regular basis. There, we're done."

All of her compliments were rather touching, honestly, but one in particular grabbed his attention to play upon. "It's French. Custom."

She blinked, not catching his jump in logic. "What is?"

"You said I smell rather pleasant. It's my cologne. It comes from Paris, and is tailored so that everyone smells whatever they most desire from me," he explained, hopping off the bed and approaching her. She looked ready to bolt by the time he'd bent down in front of her and leaned over the chair, putting his neck near her nose. "What do you smell?"

Her hot breath panting against his neck sent electric tingles down his spine. Now this was more like it!

"Go on, sniff," he encouraged, leaning his lips towards the shell of her ear, forcing his tone and demeanor into calm control, despite the racing blood through his veins. "Tell me what you smell."

Pretending indifference, she made a rather rude harrumph, not even bothering to inhale. "I don't have to sniff to know I'd smell wet, musky ferret fur."

He tsk'd at her. "Seriously, Granger. Give it a go." He turned and smirked in challenge. "Or are you too chicken to be so close? Afraid my handsomeness will overwhelm you?"

"Pah!" she sniffed with scorn. "Not likely." To prove that she was not afraid, she leaned forward and sniffed once. Then, she pressed her nose in a little further and inhaled again. Drawn to him now, as that was the effect of the cologne, her nose touched down right over the skin above his pulse as she breathed in his scent. When she moaned in longing, Draco thought he'd never heard a more desirable sound, and his body reacted by going hard and tight.

"What do you smell, Princess?" he coaxed, placing his mouth right on top of her lobe, letting his lips rub the delicate skin. "Tell me," he whispered, in a dark, enticing tone.

Her breath was caught in a slow pant, and her hands crept of their own accord to grip his bared shoulders. With a light pressure, she dug her nails into skin, causing electricity to shoot up and his spine and his heart to pound in response.

"Sandalwood, cinder ash, wine, and… roses."

"Close your eyes," he bid, as he inhaled her light fragrance, and was equally as seduced by the moment. Trembling against him, her grip on him tightened as he let out a soft moan, and he pressed in closer. He nuzzled her neck with his nose and chin. "What do you imagine from the scent? Tell me."

Granger began shaking in earnest now. "I… I see a dark room, black satin sheets and silvery moonlight spilling through an open window upon them," she whispered the secret fantasy. "There are embers in a dying fire, and red wine in a glass. Red rose petals are strewn all about the room and on the bed."

Ghosting his lips up the side of her throat, he breathed hot air on her skin. "Beautiful," he sighed, very pleased and at the same time, very disturbed. "That's your ideal of love-making, Granger. How you see it… with me."

"Hmm?" she asked, slowly coming back into herself, pulling away from his collar. Her grip on his arms eased up. "Love-making? With you?"

He let go, not pushing for more physical intimacy at just that moment. It wouldn't do to frighten her off. Still, he _did _want to set a sultry tone that would linger with her thoughts after this round was over. "The scent is meant to evoke your passion and trigger your unconscious desires for me," he explained in a soft murmur. "Black satin sheets and silver moonlight – you want me to dominate you, but you want it done seductively, not rough. A warm fire and wine – you want things between us to burn slowly and smolder before we lose all control and overindulge in each other."

Leaning back in her chair and letting him go, he watched her face drain of colour. "It's a trick - some sort of pheromone response."

He nodded. "In a way, yes. The cologne is very rare as it's made from Veela tears. It's designed to show you what you most desire. But there's a downside to the attraction because of its key ingredient," he explained, regaining his full height over her, feeling the throbbing ache in his groin. She'd spy his obvious erection any moment now… Backing towards the bed, he held her shimmering, dark amber gaze. "It also shows your greatest hope, which for many people will never be fulfilled and so will only lead them to despair. In your case, you saw red rose petals everywhere. It means you want romantic love. But you believe such a thing is impossible coming from someone like me, which is why the fire was dying and why everything was hidden in the dark, under black sheets and the cover of night."

They stared at each other in silence for many long minutes, studying each other, considering what had just been revealed and now lay like an uncomfortable weight between them.

It was his greatest _fecking_ dream come true: Hermione Granger truly desired him! Obviously, it was a repressed longing - so much so that even she hadn't been willing to admit it until now - but the fact was that the bookish, severe, goody-good Princess of Gryffindor wanted not just sex from him, Slytherin's King, but love.

That knot in his chest – the one that had always been there, ever since the day they'd met; the one that had contained both his burning hatred and his desperate desire for this witch before him – tightened at the thought that she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her and for the exact same things.

His partner flinched first.

Looking away, Granger tried to compose her temporarily shaken foundation, hiding once more – as he did – behind a mask of cool detachment. "I'm done with my list," she informed him, wrapping her arms about her middle.

Sitting back down on the mattress of the bed, Draco spread his long legs out in front of him and leaned back on the heels of his palms, uncaring if she noticed the sizable bulge in his slacks; wanting, in fact, for her to pay attention to it. "Then I'm done with receiving my reward from you. Your turn," he offered, wanting to find out what her requirement was. If he was lucky, maybe he'd get to touch her.

She cleared her throat again, and her cheeks pinked. Whatever it was she had received as a gift, obviously she wasn't comfortable with it.

"Don't go yellow on me now, princess," he cajoled, knowing the insult would get her back up. "What's the card say?"

She turned a venomous look at him, then brought her card up and read it aloud. When she was done, she threw it down on the floor in disgust. Draco nearly jumped up and crowed his good luck on the spot. He was going to give her a massage. _Fabulous!_

He toed off his shoes and motioned for her to come up onto the bed, patting the spot next to him. "Lay down here," he bid, lowering his voice again and giving her a promising look.

Hermione's eyes strayed to his pants then, and he knew she'd _finally_ spied his very happy erection. She warily shook her head. "I'm not lying down next to you."

"Then come sit on the bed," he tried instead. "I can't bloody well give you a massage in that chair, with its back to the wall. There's no room."

With as much dignity as she could muster, Granger stood and made her way over to the bed, sitting on the end again – at least a foot away. Apparently, she wasn't going to make this easy on him. The woman could be so bloody obstinate sometimes!

He crawled over to her position, intending upon crowding up behind her. Catching on to the plan, his partner tried to rabbit for the door out of pure instinct, but Draco's reflexes were faster, and so he snaked an arm about her waist and kept her in place, positioning them so that his legs were spread wide to either side of her body as she sat in the 'vee' between his thighs. He snuggled in close, pressing her back against his chest, refusing to allow her to move away. "Now, now, Granger, are you forfeiting the game already? It's only a little massage." He pressed his lips to her exposed ear and lowered his voice further, softening it, breathing hot against the lobe. "This is _your_ reward, after all. Enjoy it."

Shaking like an active Snitch between his fingers, his pretty little prey swallowed with upset several times. "Y-you promise not to hurt me?" she asked. "That you'll be gentle and not pervy?"

Draco inhaled her cardamom-rose-cinnamon scent, letting it suffuse into his nose, roll across his tongue and onto the back of his palette. She always smelled so good. He'd been purposefully putting himself near her in classes for the last year just so he could sniff her perfume, although she'd had no clue. "I can't hurt you. I can only give you pleasure," he sighed, feeling the knot in his chest tighten a little more. "If anything I do feels bad, just tell me and I'll stop. Deal?"

He could feel her quickened pulse against his chest, could practically hear the internal debate in her head. To his amazement, she loosened up, forcing her muscles to let go one by one. "Okay, just a simple massage on my shoulders."

Draco trailed hid fingers up her arms, reveling in finally being able to touch the golden skin that he'd been dreaming of caressing for so long. It was as soft and warm as he'd always imagined. His skin was pale and slightly cool in contrast to the light honey glow of her flesh. "Relax, Beautiful." He began kneading the knots away with light, rolling pressure. "Close your eyes and think of your favourite place to be in the whole world. It'll help you unwind." He waited a few seconds, giving her a chance to envision the location he knew she'd imagine. "Have you got the library firmly in mind yet?"

The object of his obsession gasped as he preempted her once more. She grumbled something under her breath about bouncing ferrets, and Draco chuckled. "Too easy, Granger." A thought occurred to him then. "Instead of the library, why don't you try to envision a calming beach? One where you're all alone and you can appreciate the sounds and smells around you without being disturbed by teachers or other students. Just you and the white sand, and the blue water, and the surf gently washing in and out…"

As he spent the next fifteen minutes describing the scene for her in vivid detail – down to the gulls crying in the air, the feel of warmth beneath her bare toes, how the salty spray tickled her nose, and the gentle breeze that stirred her curls off her neck - he felt her melt into a state of relaxation against him. He'd also willed the lighting in the room to dim, creating an atmosphere of peace and tranquility.

"You're really very good at this," she murmured. "I haven't been able to relax in, well, a long time."

"I know," he breathed into her ear, teasing it with his lips. "You're always so tense, Granger. Earning your own way in the world is all fine and dandy, but it deteriorates your health, too. You play too little and work too hard."

"I can't help it," she breathed a frustrated sigh. "There's always so much to do, and it's hardwired into me to get it all done."

Draco's fingers increased their pressure to work her back down from the tension she was once more evoking just thinking of such things. "Relax," he soothed again. "Just forget the world outside for now. Lean back and enjoy this."

With a reluctant sigh, she surrendered herself to the massage as he'd requested, leaning back against his chest in full surrender… which was precisely what Draco had been waiting for. He slid his mouth over the curve of her neck and shoulder, placing gentle kisses as he went. The card _did _say that this was allowed, and he intended on taking full advantage of that offer.

With a quick swipe, he licked at the sugary-salt of her skin. She was powdered with honey dust – a delicious treat he hadn't expected, and which explained how her skin sparkled under the light. His sweet tooth enjoyed the flavor very much. Traversing a wet, playful path up to her pulse point, he gently nipped a little harder over the spot, grabbing on with a light possessiveness intending to evoke a response.

Granger didn't disappoint; she moaned low in her throat and the sound traveled all the way down to his cock, jerking it wide awake once more, causing the settled, deflated member to grow hard again in an instant. She would feel it against her back this time, as there was no hiding his excitement from her, seeing how they were so tightly embraced.

He groaned in response and increased the pressure of his teeth on her delicate flesh. Against her throat, he began laving bold lines up and down with lazy, cat-like licks, stopping briefly to nibble her earlobe or brush the hair off the back of her neck. His mouth curled around, placing suckling, wet kisses at the top of her spine and across the nape of her neck. When he got to the other side, he repeated his seductive technique until Granger was squirming in his arms.

Opening his eyes, he feasted on the sight below: the hard points of her nipples strained the thin, silken fabric of her dress, proving her arousal was genuine. With sly maneuvering, he unbuttoned her halter and slipped it from its catch. Ever so slowly, he lowered the collar of her dress, continuing to kiss her exposed skin.

As the silken fabric of her dress just barely covered her cleavage, Draco stopped, not wanting to risk the card's wrath. The spells were very specific on the deck: you couldn't do more than required, unless the other party wished it, too, and then, they had to say it aloud. If he was to unveil and touch her breasts, as he so desperately wanted, he'd need Granger's spoken permission, and moans and grunts wouldn't cover it.

"Hermione?" he breathed her given name for the first time ever and she shivered in response.

"Mmmm?" she hummed, caught up in his seduction, her fingernails kneading into his thighs.

Her eyes were still closed, her lips slightly parted, her body molded against his, and Draco felt his need for her burn through his very skin. He ran his fingertips over her shoulders, following the delicate bones of her collar towards the center of her chest. "I want to see you - just a little more. Will you let me massage your beautiful breasts, too?"

The word 'breasts' he was sure had given him away, for he felt it when she realized what was happening, and fully comprehended what he had asked. He knew by the stiffening of her muscles that she was going to pull away then, and felt a tremendous frustration and disappointment by the letdown.

So much for a sexy massage. She'd start screaming at him any minute now…

Her hands came up and held onto her liberated halter top, preventing the dress from slipping down any further. "I think… that's enough for now," she said, her confusion and mortification evident in her tone.

Draco put his hands up for her to see that he meant her no harm and would release her without fuss. "As you wish," he offered, leaning back and letting her go. They still had many rounds left before the game ended. Perhaps at some point tonight or tomorrow she'd trust him enough to give him what he wanted without a card enforcing her compliance.

Because, sure as Hell, he wanted Hermione Granger to give all of herself over to him, and at her own free will – and not just her body, but her heart as well. This whole thing was, after all, not just about indulging in a one-shot chance of a lifetime, but creating something that would endure after the game ended. He'd spent the last year coming up with the perfect opportunity to get her alone for just this chance, settling on _Eros _the moment he'd heard of it. He could be patient a few more hours, at least, when such a grand reward awaited him at the end of it… he hoped.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Musical Selection for this Chapter: **_**"A Little Less Conversation" by Elvis Presley. Lyrics are as follows…**_

**_A little less conversation, a little more action, please._**  
**_All this aggravation ain't satisfaction-ing me._**  
**_A little more bite and a little less bark._**  
**_A little less fight and a little more spark._**  
**_Close your mouth and open up your heart, and baby, satisfy me._**  
**_Satisfy me, baby._**

**_Baby, close your eyes and listen to the music,_**  
**_Dig to the summer breeze._**  
**_It's a groovy night and I can show you how to use it._**  
**_Now come along with me, and put your mind at ease._**

**_A little less conversation, a little more action, please._**  
**_All this aggravation ain't satisfaction-ing me._**  
**_A little more bite and a little less bark._**  
**_A little less fight and a little more spark._**  
**_Shut your mouth and open up your heart, and baby, satisfy me._**  
**_Satisfy me, baby._**

**_Come on, baby, I'm tired of talking._**  
**_Grab your coat, and let's start walking…_**  
**_Come on, come on… (Come on, come on)_**  
**_Come on, come on… (Come on, come on)_**  
**_Don't procrastinate, don't articulate._**  
**_Girl, it's getting late…_**  
**_You just sittin' and waitin' around?_**

**_A little less conversation, a little more action, please._**  
**_All this aggravation ain't satisfaction-ing me._**  
**_A little more bite and a little less bark._**  
**_A little less fight and a little more spark._**  
**_Close your mouth and open up your heart, and baby, satisfy me._**  
**_Satisfy me, baby._**  
**_Satisfy me, baby._**  
**_Satisfy me, baby…_**


	4. Chapter 2B: Harry & Tracey

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**flybynight088 **__recommended the song, __**"**_**Making Memories of Us**_**" by Keith Urban **__for Harry & Tracey this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Harry's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**flybynight088 **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

**PLEASE REVIEW, FOLKS! What did you think of this chapter? **

**

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_**CHAPTER TWO (#2): HARRY & TRACEY**_

Harry politely opened the door for Tracey into their private room, scooting in behind her to close the door with a gentle push of the lock. The room was decked out exactly as the others: white furniture, walls and flooring, ceiling lights, and fully capable of being altered in a moment by either party should they ask the Room of Requirement to do so.

Tracey looked about, blushing. "Wow, it's… really... _white_."

Harry considered it and nodded. "Yeah, kind-of uncomfortable. I'll fix it, if you'll let me?" They glanced at each other and she nodded, looking shyly down at the floor almost immediately.

With a thoughtful request, the room altered about them. The white shag carpet became a plush dark green, the walls a very light grey, and the furniture blended to match. He also requested a fireplace against the back wall instead of a bed, and set a magical flame to it. The final piece was a comfy, fabric two-seater sofa in front of the fire that was black, designed so they could get to know each other better. He'd tried for Slytherin colors, hoping to put her more at ease.

He lowered the light in the room so that it was a more intimate atmosphere. "Better?"

His partner looked about with a smile and relaxed visibly. "Much, thank you."

He indicated with a polite arm that she sit on the couch ahead of him, choosing her seat as she wished, as was proper for a man to do. He then took his place beside her. "You drew first," he reminded her lightly, trying to keep things as stress-free as possible between them, given the awkward situation. "But, before we begin, maybe we should introduce ourselves properly?" He smiled at her gently. "I mean, I know you from around classes, but we've never actually spoken, I believe."

Davis hesitantly held out a hand to shake, her pretty lips turning up in an honest smile. "Tracey Marie Davis."

Harry smiled brightly and shook her small, dainty hand. "Harry James Potter."

They let go immediately at the same time, and looked away, apparently both bashful about such things. "So, um… would you like to read your card first?" he offered again.

Tracey blushed. "Oh, yes, of course." She held it up and read it aloud:

_**DEED: Your partner must give you a sensual foot and leg massage with a nice scented oil of your choice.**_

He almost adjusted his non-existent glasses again, reminded himself with a mental slap to knock it off, and instead scratched the side of his face. "Well, as _Deeds_ go – and I don't know about you, but I did get a chance to read all of my Housemates cards in advance – that one is rather pleasant to start off, I think," he chirped, trying to make it easier on both of them.

The pretty blonde girl nodded. "Yes, I think we could both enjoy this."

They sat for another minute, neither moving. Behind Harry's chest, his heart started beating a little faster.

"Right, so, what oil scent do you want to try?" he asked, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, rolling up the sleeves and kneeling down by her side, waiting.

She considered it, biting her lip. "Um… honestly? I've never done this before – get a massage, I mean - so I wouldn't know," she admitted. "You choose."

Harry's eyebrows lowered in confusion. No one had ever given her a massage before? Tragic! It had been one of his favorite things to do with Marietta Edgecombe while they'd been dating. "Well, you're in for a treat, then," he explained, cracking his knuckles and twirling his wrists to stretch them out. "I happen to be a massage expert." He glanced up at her through his dark lashes. "Do you like the smell of peppermint? It has a refreshing, cooling effect for the feet and legs."

Tracey nodded without a second's thought. "Sounds nice. I'll trust you, Harry."

His stomach flipped at her words and at the sincere look of faith in her hazel-colored eyes. Merlin, she was really pretty, wasn't she? "Okay," he stuttered, then summoned a bottle of peppermint oil into his hands. Indicating her dress, he nodded at her. "May I?"

She acquiesced easily, and Harry respectfully lifted the hem to above her knees… and nearly got blown away with the exquisite beauty of her bared calves, ankles and feet. Secretly, Harry had a thing for touching a girl here, finding these spots sensually erotic on a woman. With delicate care, he removed her strapping sandal heels from her feet one at a time. Her toenails, he noted, were very well cared for and she'd given herself a pedicure with matching purple nail polish before coming to tonight's game.

A girl who cared for her feet was such a total turn-on for him.

Glancing up at her, he indicated that she should lie back into the cushions of the sofa and enjoy what he was about to do. Following instructions, she watched him not out of suspicion, but out of genuine curiosity about the process of a foot massage.

With another silent thought, Harry conjured a towel to lay over his lap and piped in some soothing Enya to play in the background, thinking of his favorite artist's 'Watermark' CD, feeling awkward with the silence that would, he knew, ensue as soon as he started rubbing her feet. Tracey seemed surprised by the music and tensed up.

"Relax," he soothed her. "Just a bit of Muggle music to make the atmosphere peaceful, so you can enjoy."

"Oh," Tracey replied and immediately did as he bade.

Rubbing the oil between his palms and then rubbing them together to heat them up, Harry began smoothing the slick fluid over her foot, inhaling the sharp minty bouquet on the air with a sigh of contentment. Peppermint had a nice odor on both the breath and the body. Applying the proper pressure to the bottom of her right foot, he moved his thumbs over the top, smoothing the muscles there first. Moving with tender attention, he then rubbed the pad at the base of her toes, where he was sure there was pain from the height of her heels. Tracey inhaled and then exhaled deeply in pleasure, and her muscles just seemed to let go at that point as she fluidly melted into the furniture.

"Good?" he asked, continuing on down to the arch of her foot, applying just the proper pressure as he rubbed in outwardly-curving circles with his thumbs.

She nodded. "Oh, yes," she harmonized in sincere enjoyment, and as he moved to her heel, rubbing it in a circular motion, she moaned and leaned back into the couch, closing her eyes fully, willing herself into his capable hands. "That feels _wonderful_."

Warmth suffused his chest at her words and the expression upon her features.

He hadn't felt such a thing for another person since Ginny. It was a queer, nervous feeling he was experiencing just then, but at the same time, it filled him with hopeful anticipation. Perhaps this game was going to present him with an opportunity here…

"Good," he whispered, then continued, working on her individual toes next, then her ankle, then calf. As he moved the towel to his shoulder and rested her leg on it, so he could get to the back of her knee, her dress accidentally moved, giving him a glimpse of her soft, rounded thighs. Her legs were strong – not a runner's musculature, but definitely indicative of some sort of athletic activity aside from climbing the stairs of Hogwarts. "Are you a dancer?" he chanced a guess.

Tracey's eyes flew open. "How did you know?"

He continued to massage her knee. "Your build. You're tall, thin and have great legs."

He blushed at his own candidness, but thankfully his partner did not reply. Concentrating on continuing the massage, he moved back down her calf, reversing his path from earlier, assuring he'd gotten every last knot out before letting her go. When he'd finished with the right leg, he took up its twin and repeated the process, not speaking, letting Tracey enjoy the experience, absorbing himself in the act as well.

She had absolutely gorgeous legs and feet, and he was so turned on by the touching and the occasional peeking at her thighs that by the time he'd gotten up to Davis' knee, his sack was beginning to ache from the tightness of his pants. He chanced a look back up at her, hoping she hadn't noticed.

Head lolling back against the cushions, eyes closed and a small smile gracing her lips... she'd fallen asleep!

The old ego taking a nice stroll around the room at the thought that he'd relaxed his partner so thoroughly that she'd sacked out, Harry took that stolen moment to really look at this girl more closely. She was really quite a beauty. Why hadn't he noticed her before?

Well, that wasn't quite fair. He knew the reasons: over the last four years, he'd had a crush on 'Mione, then Cho, then Marietta, then 'Mione again, then Ginny, and finally Julie Parkes, whom he'd broken up with a little over a month ago after a two week fling that meant nothing but a good shag opportunity for both of them. Besides, Tracey was a Slytherin – a House he'd vowed never to date anyone from, simply on principle alone. Had he missed his chance with this girl as a result of such prejudice?

He was getting way ahead of himself. He didn't even know her yet! Yeah, she was pretty, and apparently liked the color purple, and she was shy and somewhat trusting, but that wasn't enough for him to really know if he wanted to make a play for her. He had to get to know her better. He hoped they didn't get any really kinky sex stuff before he felt comfortable with the idea tonight. Performance anxiety was a killer for a boner.

He'd finished up her left foot by then, and put both legs back on the floor, glancing up. She was still asleep. Placing the towel on the floor and sitting up on the sofa next to her, leaning back into the couch, he took her hand gently in his. "Tracey," he murmured, trying to wake her without scaring her. "Tracey, wake up." She sighed, but didn't awaken, merely shifted so that her head moved to his shoulder and leaned upon it. In another second, she had snuggled up to him.

Harry was caught off guard, unsure as to what to do. He looked down at the girl-woman in his arms and tried waking her again. She merely burrowed her nose into his chest.

_So trusting_, he thought again, feeling that warmth in his chest expand. It was adorable… but for the sake of the game, they had to do his card before time ran out or else he would accidentally forfeit and they'd both be knocked out. It was too early for such a thing. Besides, he was kind of enjoying their time together and the idea of performing his card now was rather interesting to him.

"Tracey, wake up," he jarred her lightly. "Come on. You have to get up now, pretty girl."

She stirred and looked up at him, sleepy, multi-colored eyes so honest and sincere. Their gazes locked. "Harry?"

His heart gave a painful leap in that moment, squeezing tightly. _Oh, man… _Swallowing back the tide of irrational feeling that flooded his senses (especially between his legs), he righted Tracey, helping her come fully awake. "If I don't perform my card, I'll be knocked out of the game," he reminded her. "There isn't a lot of time left. I've lost about ten minutes already."

"Card?" she asked, and then dawning realization alighted her features and she sat up abruptly. "Oh, your card! The game! I'm _so sorry_ for falling asleep like that! It's just that N.E.W.T.s were so exhausting last week, and I never really recovered fully between all of the parties they've been throwing in the dorms and all. And the massage was so wonderful..." She looked down, realized that her knees were still exposed, and righted her dress immediately, blushing again. "So, your card. Yes, right. We need to act it out."

Harry noted that her hands were trembling slightly, and he put one of his over the both of hers in her lap. "Don't worry. It's really a harmless one." He read it for her:

_**DEED: Your partner must dance with you – however you want.**_

"Oh!" Tracey brightened, her smile finding its way back home. "Well, that sounds lovely!"

He stood and held a hand out to her. "Rather fortunate that you're a dancer," he joked as she slid her warm, small hand into his and helped her to her feet. "Because I'm rather awful at it. You lead."

She laughed and it was an enchanting sound. "I'm barefoot," she reminded him. "What if you step on my feet?"

"Hmmm…" he considered the problem, and promptly hopped her up onto the tops of his shoes, wrapping one arm about her waist and the other taking her hand, as he had learned for the Yule Ball years before. Snuggled in close to him, her body pressing against his, they were almost of an equal height, he slightly taller still. "I guess I'll have to do my best to guide us then. Just don't laugh."

He thought of some songs he wouldn't mind dancing to with her like this and came up with a couple of his favorites. The first one piped into the room to the soft jazzy accompaniment of a piano, a muted trumpet and a soft cymbal, performed by one of his favorite Muggle singers.

_**Unforgettable… that's what you are.**_  
_**Unforgettable… though near or far.**_

_**Like a song of love that clings to me,**_  
_**How the thought of you does things to me.**_

_**Never before has someone been more…**_  
_**Unforgettable… in every way.**_  
_**And forever more… that's how you'll stay.**_

_**That's why darling it's incredible,**_  
_**That someone so unforgettable,**_  
_**Thinks that I am unforgettable, too.**_

"I know this song," she admitted. "It's one of my mother's favorites. She's a Muggle-born witch, you know. She used to dance with my father to that song in our living room when I was younger."

"Nat King Cole is one of my favorites, too," he admitted softly, staring into her charming eyes as he sashayed them back and forth. "I used to hear my Aunt Petunia sneak these songs on the player when she thought no one was home to hear. I've always _imagined_ my parents dancing to this song. Funny, huh?"

She nodded once. "Funny."

"It's not my favorite song from him though. This one is." He thought of the song he wanted as soon as the last notes of "Unforgettable" faded away, and then the fully orchestrated version of "When I Fall In Love" filled the room.

_**When I fall in love,**_  
_**It will be forever,**_  
_**Or I'll never fall in love.**_

_**In a restless world like this is**_  
_**Love is ended before it's begun.**_  
_**And too many moonlight kisses**_  
_**Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun.**_

_**When I give my heart,**_  
_**It'll be completely,**_  
_**Or I'll never give my heart.**_

_**And the moment I can feel that**_  
_**You feel that way, too…**_  
_**Is when I'll fall in love with you.**_

Behind his chest, his heart thumped wildly, and for a moment, he felt himself falling, too… directly into Tracey Davis' honest, green-blue-brown combination eyes.

_Oh, man… Not good!_ She was on the other team! She was supposed to be his rival for this game…

Thankfully, a light chiming sound rang out in the air, telling them that their time was up (a Malfoy idea when they'd been setting up the Room of Requirement earlier; it was timed to count out exactly fifty minutes from the moment a couple entered a private room).

"Time to go," he stated, reluctantly releasing her.

"Yeah," she agreed, seemingly just as loath to end the dance.

Lowering her eyes, she climbed off his feet. The loss of her warmth from his person was enough to make him shiver. He swallowed and turned away, trying to compose his rioting emotions as she bent to replace her heels, politely allowing her to support and balance herself with one hand on his arm.

Moving to the door side by side, he reacted on gut instinct and stopped her from reaching for the knob. "Listen, Tracey," he tried for honest. "No matter what else tonight brings, I want you to know that I liked this. Just this, what we did here this first round. It was… perfect."

Rosy-cheeked, she looked over at him and nodded. "Yes, it was a… perfect first date, I suppose you could say," she smiled tremulously.

Stepping into her, he reached up and smoothed a loose blonde hair off her forehead, tucking it back behind her ear. "I'll try… not to hurt you," he promised her. "No matter what my card says, I won't… do anything you don't want. You set the tone and pace."

She looked at him a minute more, and then slowly leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek. It was butterfly soft, and made fireworks go off in his chest. "Thank you," she accepted graciously, then smiled playfully. "I just realized something. This is the first time I've been escorted to the door by a date." With a sigh of happiness, she turned the knob and stepped away.

Harry's heart flipped over in his chest, and he knew right there that he was in serious trouble.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

_**

* * *

**_

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Enya's 'Watermark' was released on CD in 1988, so Harry would have known about it by the time of this fic. If you haven't ever heard this CD before, I highly recommend it. It's my favorite of all of her albums, and has the best music for massage, in my opinion.**

"**Unforgettable" (1951) and "When I Fall In Love" (1964) were the versions sung by Nat King Cole for this fic, as I prefer those over all other versions of these songs.**

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Making Memories of Us" by Keith Urban. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**I'm gonna be here for you, baby.  
I'll be a man of my word.  
Speak the language in a voice that you have never heard.  
I wanna sleep with you forever,  
And I wanna die in your arms,  
In a cabin by a meadow where the wild bees swarm.**_

_**And I'm gonna love you like nobody loves you.**_  
_**And I'll earn your trust making memories of us.**_

_**I wanna honor your mother.**_  
_**And I wanna learn from your pa.**_  
_**I wanna steal your attention like a bad outlaw.**_  
_**And I wanna stand out in a crowd for you,**_  
_**A man among men.**_  
_**I wanna make your world better than it's ever been.**_

_**And I'm gonna love you like nobody loves you.**_  
_**And I'll earn your trust making memories of us.**_

_**We'll follow the rainbow**_  
_**Wherever the four winds blow,**_  
_**And there'll be a new day**_  
_**Comin' your way.**_

_**I'm gonna be here for you from now on,**_  
_**This you know somehow.**_  
_**You've been stretched to the limits, but it's alright now.**_  
_**And I'm gonna make you this promise:**_  
_**If there's life after this**_  
_**I'm gonna be there to meet you with a warm, wet kiss.**_  
_**(Yes I am.)**_

_**And I'm gonna love you like nobody loves you.**_  
_**And I'll earn your trust making memories of us.**_  
_**I'm gonna love you like nobody loves you baby,**_  
_**And I'll win your trust making memories of us.**_


	5. Chapter 2C: Ron & Pansy

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**El-El-El **__recommended the song, __**"**_**Crashed**_**" by Daughtry **__for Ron & Pansy this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Ron's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**El-El-El **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favourites, and reward you, as promised!**

* * *

_**CHAPTER TWO (#3): RON & PANSY**_

As soon as they entered the room, Pansy scoffed. "Oh, hell no," she stated rather emphatically and with a thought, changed the entire room. Gone was the square bed. In its place, a simple rug lay on the floor. No pillows, no comfort. "No one will be enjoying this," she told him rather flatly.

Gritting his jaw at her imperious tone of voice and her grating attitude, Ron narrowed his eyes. "Fine by me, baby doll. It's not like I wanted any of this anyway."

"Forfeit then," she challenged with a malicious smirk.

"You forfeit!" he countered back, clenching his fists at his side, reminding himself how much bigger he was than her, and that if he smacked her on the snoot – as he was aching to do – he would hurt her. Ron didn't like hurting girls. It was his number one rule: no hitting a girl, _ever_. He'd never done it, even in Quidditch (it's why he'd picked the position of Keeper – because the contact with other players was limited physically, and the majority of his time was spent on blocking Quaffles lobbed at the goals or Bludgers aimed at his head).

"Never!" Parkinson hissed at him, her fists equally clenched. "You'd just _love_ to see me quit, I'm sure, but you can choke on it, Weasley. I will never give in to the likes of someone like you!"

Smirking, Ron stepped closer. "We'll see about that." He flipped his card up and taunted her by not showing her the _Deed_ on the other side, letting her imagination run wild. "So, shall we get to it? We haven't got all night, you know."

Fuming mad, Pansy stomped over to the little scrap of fabric she'd put on the floor and crossed her arms. "I drew first, but I'd rather not touch you yet. Have to work my way up. You go."

"Why? So you can get the last laugh on me? Forget it, Parkinson. You go first," he challenged.

Smirking just as viciously at him as he had at her, she read off her card:

_**DEED: You get to go down on your partner. Have fun!**_

Ron blanched. She was going to bite his dick off. That shark-like grin with those little, sharp teeth promised it.

_OH, FUCKING HELL!_

Unless… He looked across at Slytherin's Bitch Queen and was inspired. If he didn't make his card unpleasant for her, perhaps she'd be less inclined to make her card unpleasant for him. Besides, he thought, as he read his card again, maybe he could even knock her off her pedestal as 'Mione had suggested earlier this week…

"_Parkinson? Perfect. I'd love to see her squirm for one of you, too. How galling would it be to her pride for any one of you three to touch her 'precious pureblood limbs,' much less make her squirm under your mouths and hands?"_

Yeah, good plan, that. He could really work her up with his card, pretend it wasn't so bad and he liked it even. Maybe charm her in the doing. Then, she'd be more willing to go easy on him. Or maybe even run off scared (despite her vow of two seconds ago not to be outdone by him).

It was a workable plan. A potentially fun plan. A very Slytherin-like plan.

HA! He'd use Parkinson's own way of playing against her. He'd beat her using her own tactics!

"Forget it. I'll go first," he insisted, and read his card aloud to her:

_**DEED: Lick the beverage or food of your choice off your partner's body.**_

As he'd expected, his partner balked, but after a minute of letting her pace back and forth, swearing, he finally put his foot down. "Either forfeit or take the dress off," he said in the most even voice he could muster. "It's too pretty to ruin."

She stopped on a dime and looked up at him like he'd gone daft.

"Or, I could just get chocolate sauce all over it," he offered instead. "If you don't mind, that is."

Snarling, she reached around and pulled down the zipper of her dress. It was an awfully loud, rather ominous sound in the quiet, bare room, and sweat broke out on his upper lip unexpectedly. With a shrug of her shoulders, the straps fell and then the dress was pooling at her feet.

_Circe's holy tits!_

Her strapless bra and lacy black panties with the garters that attached to lacy, sheer black thigh-highs covered her so that no hint of nipple or bush was visible, but the rest of her mouth-watering body was fully exposed to his gaze, and for the first time, Ron had an opportunity to see what really had lain under Parkinson's robes. Large C-cup breasts, long torso that was peachy-golden, flat tummy with a tiny bump at the bottom to give it a nice rounding out, hips that were wide enough to want to grab onto as you thrust away, and long, toned legs. He even thought her belly button pretty.

"Take a picture, you lecher," she scowled. "It'll last longer." With that, she lay down on the floor, resigned, staring up at the ceiling with jaw tightly snapped shut.

If she wasn't such a shrew, he might actually think Pansy Parkinson quite a beauty. Too bad she was a raving harpy with a foul mouth, though.

Removing his jacket and summoning a chair to lay it over (he wasn't going to throw it on the floor, carpet or no carpet), he then thought up what single food item he'd most like to lick off that smooth, untouchable skin of hers. The perfect idea came to him, and into his hand popped a bowl of fluffy dairy product – his favourite. Parkinson snorted.

"Original, Weasley," she snidely commented. "Really original. Whipping cream."

Scooping up some with two fingers, he put it to her lips and smirked. "Not just any whipping cream, sweet cakes." He smeared it all over her darkly-tinted mouth. "_Strawberry_ heavy whipping cream." She sputtered in reaction, and as soon as her lips parted, he thrust a finger in. "Try some."

She bit him and growled, but not hard enough to hurt, just to warn him off. A half-second later, her eyes widened and she let him go. He removed his fingers and licked his lips, knowing she'd had a taste of the lightly sweet, fruity cream.

As if cued by his action, she mimicked him, and swept the cream off her mouth with a flick of her pink tongue, then hummed in surprise. "Not bad, I suppose," she grudgingly approved. "At least it won't be too sticky."

Suddenly realizing how much fun this actually could be, Ron dipped his fingers back into the bowl and, scooping up a goodly amount of the dessert accompaniment, began smearing it across her belly button. Slytherin's Queen jumped and gasped, then clenched her teeth, trying to pretend disinterest.

Oh, he was going to wipe that indifference away, all right. He was going to make her squirm like a worm on a hook, just as 'Mione had predicted.

Putting the bowl at his side, he leaned over and began lapping the cream off of her body. Within three small strokes of his tongue, he had to reach for more to replenish what he'd taken, and her body shuddered, tightening up. Goosebumps prickled her skin all over now. He took his time licking the second batch off, and then the third, which he smeared up her belly and sternum to the point where the bra cut him off.

His neck was starting to hurt because of the angle. Straddling her body instead, looming over her, he licked and sucked the cream off that tasty, quivering skin of hers. When he looked up, he threw her a seductive smirk. "Yum," he said in a deep rumble and made a show of licking his lips again.

For her part, Pansy was trying not to look affected, but a blush was staining both cheeks and up her throat now, and her dark eyes were a little too wide. Her breathing had also picked up some. He thought, looking down on her, that she was rather lovely this way. Pushing her boundaries was definitely turning out to be a lot more enjoyable than he'd expected.

Smearing cream across her collar, breastbone and throat, he slowly lathed and suckled his way up her skin. She turned her head when he got too close to her lips, and her quaking increased. "Thanks," he cheerfully offered. "Better access."

Closing her eyes, Parkinson was clearly trying to pretend that this whole humiliating thing was just going to go away. _Oh, no, you little snake,_ he thought, _there's still your card to do after this. We're not done by a long-shot, chicky._

He daubed more over her pulse point and nibbled, and finally got a reaction from her mouth. She gasped, and then bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Feel good?" he whispered into her ear with a sinful snicker.

"I'm trying not to vomit all over myself," she snapped, her tone bitter.

"Hmmm… really?" he asked, licking again, "because you taste pretty damned delicious to me."

She growled again.

Merlin, that was a cute sound.

"Pervert!" she snarled.

Ron chuckled, smearing cream over her cheek and jaw, sucking and licking his way closer to her mouth. She tried very hard to refuse him, but this was his card, and he wasn't going to let her deny him anything he wanted. Cupping her jaw and turning her head, he had to remind her again that she had to submit or forfeit – which earned him the blackest, most hateful look he'd ever received.

"If you dare put your mouth over mine…" she began, but he cut her off by covering her lips with sugary goodness. Staring her in the eye, he leaned in for the kill. Parkinson actually whimpered, her expression changing from one of hatred to fear in an instant. "Don't!"

"You're going to suck my cock in less than fifteen minutes and you're worried about a kiss?" he asked, a bit incredulous. It was only a kiss. What was the big deal?

Her face flushed, turned white, and then the anger was back. "I hate you, Ronald Weasley," she spat.

Licking his lips, he grinned. "Original, Parkinson," he mocked, throwing her words back in her face. "_Really_ original. Can't you come up with another way to say you loathe my guts?"

He moved off then, not removing the cream from her mouth, scooting back down her body and pulling her bra down with a yank to both sides. She hissed in astonishment, and threw her hands over her exposed breasts to cover up.

"Nuh-uh, baby doll. Anywhere I want to lick, I get to. Card says so," he cruelly reminded her, taking delight from her discomfort. "Since you're going down on me in a few, I figured it might be fun to sample you as well."

Gently, he pried her hands off her chest and took a good, long look. Bloody hell, her tits were beautiful, too! Dark purple areolas, big nipples, perfectly curved. They were breasts made for snacking.

He smeared cream all over them and dipped his head downwards. When his lips came into contact with a taut bud, he twined his tongue around it, bringing it into full prominence. Parkinson cried out, bringing the back of her hand up to her mouth and biting on it to keep her reactions as quiet as possible, trying to deny that what he was doing to her she actually seemed to enjoy.

He licked, circled, and flicked her nipples one at a time, making them hard, excited points, and when that wasn't enough for him, he wrapped his lips around each one and sucked hard. Beneath him, his partner shuddered, squirmed, and moaned with arousal. The sound shot straight into his pants, making his prick as solid as an iron bar and causing his bollocks to tighten with need. He reacted by suckling harder and gripping a nipple between his teeth, gently tugging on it as he pulled back.

Another series of deep moans were dragged from his partner's throat as he dipped to the other nipple for an instant replay, and her hands were suddenly gripping the sides of his thighs, her sharp, painted fingernails digging into him. Her back arched, thrusting her breasts forward, giving him permission to keep going.

Man, this was seriously turning him on! Like, to the point where he wanted to shag Parkinson until she got rug burns on that pretty arse of hers, not caring that they couldn't stand each other.

It was time to take back a bit of control over the situation before he lost his mind and became the seduced, rather than the seducer.

Trailing cream up her throat, he followed the path with his tongue and lips. "Are you _sure_ you don't want me to kiss you?" he teased as he hovered over the shell of her ear. "Or maybe… you want me to put my lips somewhere else?" His fingers trailed down her hip to the crease of her knickers as he sucked on her throat. "What do you think, Parkinson? Shall I make you come before you make me?"

"You're a Gryffindor," she accused him, her whole body shaking with fury and unwanted desire, her nails digging harder into his thighs. "You're not supposed to be this cruel."

He snickered. "I take that as a 'yes,' then."

With that, he slipped down her body, tonguing her as he went, careful to put cream in his path so he wouldn't violate the card's requirements. When he got to her knickers, he released the garters and slipped the whole set down her hips. Parkinson wasn't going to make it easy for him, though, and she refused to lift her bum. He had to pull them down harder than he wanted, stripping them from her ankles after a bit of a wrestle, leaving her stockings and heels in place as he spread her thighs apart.

Merlin's balls, was there any place on Pansy Parkinson that wasn't physical perfection?

Dark, neatly trimmed curls were damp with her arousal, and she had a tiny beauty mole on her left front hip that just begged for kissing. He dragged the bowl of whipped delight closer to him and dipped his fingers in. Slowly and with a light touch, he brought them between her lower lips, separating the flesh, coating it with sugary goodness.

Slytherin's Queen cried out, and released him to bite the back of her hand again, but she made no other protest.

If she really hated this, why didn't she just quit? "Will you forfeit?" he asked softly, running his cream-coated fingernails over her clit. "I'll stop now if you want. Just say it."

She glanced down her body at him, her chest heaving up and down in quick succession, and slowly bent her knees, opening herself up to him. "If you stop now, Weasley, I'll bite your dick off for sure when it's my turn, and to hell with the rules," she promised him.

He tore his gaze from her pussy and looked up into her face… and finally saw what she'd been holding back from him – lust for him, heady and strong in her sparkling, dark eyes.

Pansy Parkinson wanted _him._

His brain switched off, and the game suddenly didn't matter anymore.

Damn the consequences, he really wanted her back.

Dropping his gaze to focus on her pleasure, he teased the entrance to her quim, rubbing cream all over it and the soft, fleshy lips surrounding it, and used his free hand to encourage her to drop her knees to the sides so she would be wide open for him. She complied without resistance.

He nearly lost his sanity then as he stared straight into the heart of the most perfect pussy he'd ever seen: swollen lips, a button-shaped, engorged clit, dark rosy skin, and a glistening core.

All for _him_.

A slave to his own lust now, Ron pressed forward, letting his mouth have at her for the first time. He swiped up the middle with a tongue thick with saliva, and pressed a deep, thorough kiss to her centre. "Bloody hell," he swore as he pulled back, licking his lips to capture the salty-lemony-strawberry essence that glossed them. "Shite, you taste so good," he murmured, liking the flavour. He licked her again, pressing his nose into her and inhaling at the same time. "_Fuuuuck._ That's… oh, man. So good." Throwing her calves over his shoulders, he lifted her hips off the floor, angling his face closer. "Want more," he growled, and set his mouth to the task of devouring her.

Pansy absolutely wailed in pleasure as he latched onto her clit and gave it a good draw. She thrust her pelvis at him in a rocking motion, rubbing her pussy all over his chin and lips. "Yes! Don't stop! Oh, gods, don't you _dare_ stop!" she begged.

Her legs tightened around his neck and she bucked against him with strength, nearly squeezing him to death between her thighs. Ron didn't mind in the least, though; it was actually a serious turn-on for him knowing he could so completely unhinge the Ice Queen of the Hogwarts Dungeon. He continued his ruthless exploration as she quivered all around him, lapping over every inch of her cunnie, sucking her tender flesh into his mouth, and thrusting his tongue deep inside her channel.

Gods, she tasted of perfection as well. And her scent…

Her fingernails scrabbled across the carpet, seeking purchase as he tilted her world upside down and within moments, he made her come so hard that she actually screamed to the ceiling and arched her back until her hips locked straight out. He drank her warm, shuddering orgasm up, muffling his moans into her flesh as he swallowed her delicious essence.

"Let me… at you!" she pleaded, reaching for him as her orgasm released her and she relaxed at last in his grip again. "Damn you, Weasley, I want you! Let me down!"

He raised his head from his feast and lowered her bottom to the floor, scrabbling up her body until only inches separated their mouths. They stared at each other, fast breaths mingling, hearts pounding in a compatible rhythm, dawning realization taking them both away in that moment.

In a flash, she was on him, thrusting her fingers into his hair and pulling him down on top of her, claiming his lips for their first kiss. It was as wild and out of control as they were in that moment, as they equally moaned and gasped around pulls of skin, reveling in the madness of their lust.

Wrapping her legs about his waist, and with strength he didn't think she had, Pansy rolled them to her left and suddenly Ron was underneath her.

"Your turn," she panted.

Flipping around so that her quim was back in his face, she unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, freeing his aching, hard cock from his pants and taking him up in a tight, feminine fist. Fuck, her grip felt good! Watching between their bodies, he caught the whole show as she lowered her mouth onto him, stretching her darkly rouged lips around his head and sinking low, taking him down her throat in one glorious motion.

Ron lost the last of his marbles at that. He reached for the bowl of cream, smeared it all over her exposed skin, grabbed onto her hips, and lowered her onto his face once more.

They moved in perfect tandem, and _Merlin_, the witch knew what to do! Parkinson gave him the best blow of his life, her mouth plummeting down to the hilt with each quick downward stroke, creating hard suction that bordered just this side of pain with each upstroke, just as Ron liked. He wasn't a big man, he knew, but he was a decently sized bloke at almost seven inches. Still, she took the whole length of him into the moist cavern of her mouth, licking and sucking at his prick like he was some kind of Honeyduke's lolly. And every time she moaned, it vibrated straight up his shaft, making his sac clench.

For his part, Ron gave as good as he got, utilizing every trick in the book, even running the tip of his tongue over her clit, signing out his name as if to prove to himself that he'd possessed at least this much of her.

Very quickly, they were both on the edge, ready to explode together.

"Parkinson, I'm gonna come!" he warned her. "Pull off if you don't want-"

She sank down low on him again and tickled his base with the bottom of her tongue as she pulled back up. That did it. His knees folded up of their own accord, his back arched off the floor and he roared his pleasure as he released the hardest he ever had. Pansy took down every drop of him, swallowing convulsively, moaning right along with him. Clearly, she liked his taste, too.

Panting as he released the last of his spurting seed into her warm, wet cavity, he belatedly realized she hadn't found her own fulfillment yet. That just didn't seem quite right to him, especially given what she'd just done to him, so pressing his tongue into her entrance, he fucked her with it again, and played with her clit with his fingers. With a few swipes, he had her moaning, squirming, and tightening up around him as before. "Come on, baby," he mumbled, coaxing her, wanting fervently to pleasure her a second time. "Give yourself to me."

Apparently, that was the magic phrase, because Pansy climaxed for him again, shouting and bowing her back like a cat in heat. Her blissful cry was loud in the high-ceilinged room, but she was completely uninhibited in that moment… and Ron found that he really dug that. He held her hips still as he greedily drank her up, and when she was finally done convulsing, he placed kisses over her soaked lips, her inflamed clit, and her sopping entrance before letting her go.

As soon as his hands released her, Pansy crawled off of him and to the side, turned away from him. She rolled up into a little ball and started crying.

The sound of her sincere anguish slashed at Ron's heart. What had happened? What had gone wrong? That just shared a mind-blowing experience. They'd both orgasmed really hard and enjoyed it, right? So, what was up with the boo-hooing?

Staring over at his partner's curved, naked spine, sanity returned, bringing with it sickening dread. This was Pansy Parkinson, one of his bitterest rivals, and she'd just allowed him to make her climax twice – she'd begged for it, in fact. And she'd sucked him off and swallowed his come, too, gulping him down with an eagerness that matched his.

Fuck, but they'd completely lost their fecking minds there for a few minutes, becoming animals, pawing and biting at each other in desperation. She was probably feeling really embarrassed and very vulnerable right about then as a result. He knew _he_ the hell was!

Sitting up, Ron tucked his tired, flaccid member back into his pants and zipped up his trousers, crawling exhaustedly over to the weeping witch's side, unsure as to what to do now. She had her arms wrapped about her middle, her lids were squeezed tightly shut, and she was sobbing as hard as she had been the morning he'd ran into her in the hallway on his way to Transfiguration. He thought she looked very small and defeated.

A wave of shame swept over him, killing the satisfied buzz he'd had going after coming.

Shite, he'd hurt her. Not physically, but in a much more powerful, terrible manner: he'd toyed with her emotions by using sex as a weapon. Although it had been his intention to teach her a lesson tonight in just such a manner, seeing her like this now… well, it hurt _him_, too.

Facing the consequences of his revenge, Ron knew in that instant that he'd done the wrong thing. A queer need to take responsibility, to comfort the crying woman erupted in his conscience and forced him to act.

Taking a risk, he snuggled up behind Pansy in a spooning position on the floor, and wrapped both arms about her, pulling her slight form against him to both comfort and provide warmth. She didn't resist, but simply cried harder.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you," he whispered in her ear, his voice catching slightly as he felt remorse weigh heavily upon his chest. "Merlin, I don't understand any of what just happened, Parkinson, but… gods, you're so _fucking_ beautiful, every bit of you. Did you know?" He pressed a chaste kiss to her throat. "I know you hate me, but… _fuck_, I loved what we just did. You were abso-_bloody_-lutely wonderful. I've never come so hard in my life. That was the best I've ever felt. I… I thought you liked it, too. I'm sorry if you didn't."

He held her in silence after that as her crying eventually tapered off. Finally, lying limp in his arms, she sniffed away the last of her sorrow. "The best? Really?" she asked in a tentative whisper. "Are you lying?"

Ron huffed. "Hell, woman, I could die happy after that. You taste like the sweetest dessert I've ever had and you suck cock better than any fantasy I could dream up. What wasn't there to love about it?"

Parkinson chuckled. "You want to know something funny, Weasley? I've never come so hard in my life either. And twice - I've never done that. I'd be lucky to get it once most of the time."

His ego gave a rousing cheer in his head. At least he'd done something right.

Parkinson turned in his arms and poked him in the chest, giving him an arch look. "But you're not allowed to tell a soul I said that, or I'll hex off your brass ones."

He lifted his hands from around her waist and put them up between them, as if to ward off potential evil. "Yes, ma'am," he automatically replied, having been taught from a young age not to argue with an authoritative woman, if possible.

After that, they lay on the floor, not touching anymore, just looking at each other, measuring up the other's intentions, considering future options.

Would he want to repeat what they'd just done? Hell, yes! If the oral stuff was that good, what would the fucking be like?

The irony of that thought struck him when the chime rang to tell them their time was over and they got up to dress. As he helped her look presentable once more, even going so far as to helping her re-zip her dress and assuring the front chains of the costume hung properly, he realized that his earlier answer to the _Interrogations _card from the first round had been the truth: he had liked going down on his partner.

No, not just 'liked'. He'd _loved_ it.

Now, wasn't that the hell of it?

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Crashed" by Daughtry. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**Well I was moving at the speed of sound.  
Head-spinning, couldn't find my way around, and  
Didn't know that I was going down.  
Yeah, yeah.  
Where I've been, well it's all a blur.  
What I was looking for, I'm not sure.  
Too late and didn't see it coming.  
Yeah, yeah.**_

_**And then I crashed into you,**_  
_**And I went up in flames.**_  
_**Could've been the death of me,**_  
_**But then you breathed your breath in me.**_  
_**And I crashed into you,**_  
_**Like a runaway train.**_  
_**You will consume me,**_  
_**But I can't walk away.**_

_**Somehow, I couldn't stop myself.**_  
_**I just wanted to know how it felt.**_  
_**Too strong, I couldn't hold on.**_  
_**Yeah, yeah.**_  
_**Now I'm just tryin' to make some sense**_  
_**Out of how and why this happened.**_  
_**Where we're heading, there's just no knowing.**_  
_**Yeah, yeah.**_

_**And then I crashed into you,**_  
_**And I went up in flames.**_  
_**Could've been the death of me,**_  
_**But then you breathed your breath in me.**_  
_**And I crashed into you,**_  
_**Like a runaway train.**_  
_**You will consume me,**_  
_**But I can't walk away.**_

_**From your face, your eyes**_  
_**They're burned into me.**_  
_**You saved me, you gave me**_  
_**Just what I need.**_  
_**Oh, just what I need.**_

_**And then I crashed into you,**_  
_**And I went up in flames.**_  
_**Could've been the death of me,**_  
_**But then you breathed your breath in me.**_  
_**And I crashed into you,**_  
_**Like a runaway train.**_  
_**You will consume me,**_  
_**But I can't walk away.**_

_**And then I crashed into you,**_  
_**And then I crashed into you,**_  
_**And then I crashed into you,**_  
_**And then I crashed into you,**_  
_**Then I crashed into you,**_  
_**Like a runaway train.**_  
_**You will consume me,**_  
_**But I can't walk away.**_


	6. Chapter 2D: Theodore & Daphne

**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **_User __**gingerhairedgirl567 **__recommended the song, __**"**_**So I Need You**_**" by 3 Doors Down **__for Theo & Daphne this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Theo's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**gingerhairedgirl567 **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

**PLEASE REVIEW, FOLKS! What did you think of this chapter? **

**

* * *

**

_**CHAPTER TWO (#4): THEODORE & DAPHNE**_

Theo immediately kicked his shoes off as soon as he'd entered his private suite behind Daphne and hopped into the middle of the bed, testing out its springiness. Ah, just the right amount – not too firm, not too soft. Just like he liked his women. He could live with the color; it didn't really matter to him.

"So," he looked at her slyly from under his lashes, giving her the look he knew made women melt. "You get to go first, since you drew your card before me." He grinned with anticipation. "What do I have to do? Bathe you in warm oil? Lick heavy cream off your belly? What?"

Daphne smiled amusedly at him as, whipping out her card, she read off her naughty reward:

_**DEED: You partner must kneel before you and perform any three tasks you want, responding with 'Yes, Your Highness,' to your commands.**_

Theo's jaw fell and then he let out a whoop of pure excitement. "Woo hoo! YES!" Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, he looked up at her eagerly. "So, dominate me, my Queen! Make me do your bidding!"

Daphne looked hard at him. "You are supposed to kneel at my feet, Mr. Nott, when you offer yourself up."

His guts twisting into hot molten lava at just the commanding tone in her voice, Theo hurried to do as she bid, throwing himself at her feet, looking up at her with desperate fever. "Command me," he begged, wanting to see this woman's kink in full force.

Tilting her head, his Housemate coolly appraised him behind those _fucking hot_ glasses of hers, and then began walking a circle around him. "Before we commence, Mr. Nott, there are a few matters we need to address, so we may reach an accord." Unexpectedly, he felt the heel of her shoe pressed against his right shoulder blade. His body reacted instantly, hardening, flushing with blood. "Here are my three 'tasks,' as it were. First, you will do my bidding exactly, as and when I dictate it throughout the entirety of this round. I expect you to obey me for the full twenty-five minute duration, throughout which, you will do as my card requires you to do and answer every single one of my demands with 'Yes, Your Majesty' - _not _'Your Highness,' but 'Your Majesty.' Do you agree?"

Oh, hot damn, this was going to be so awesome! "Yes, _fuck yes_," he exhaled harshly.

The heel slid over his shoulder, and now she was pressed against him, her naked calf hanging over his torso to slide against his chest. "Second, you will never speak of anything we do in our private chambers outside of the boundaries of the game even after this card has played itself out, and especially not with any of the others confined to game play. Do you agree?"

Swallowing thickly, cupping his steel hard erection, he nodded. "Absolutely. I agree."

Fingernails ran through his hair, massaging his skull erotically, making him moan in pleasure. "Third, when this game ends, you will not pursue me."

He paused. But what if he liked what they did and he wanted more later?

Fingers tugged his hair somewhat painfully, while at the same time Daphne wiggled off her ballet slipper and rubbed her toes into his crotch, moving his hand aside. "Do you agree, Mr. Nott? If not, I will be inclined to play this game exactly as the cards require and no more than that."

He closed his eyes, loving the feel of her rough treatment and her tough voice. At this point, he'd promise her anything if he could just tear into her. "Sure."

"Excellent," his partner purred, rubbing her toes naughtily over him with one final swipe before she removed her leg from his person entirely and stepped back. "Then, we may begin."

The lights in the room suddenly dimmed several notches, and Theo's anticipation kicked up to the point where he was now shaking.

"You will remove every stitch of clothing," his goddess commanded. "_Now_, Theo."

"Yes, Your Majesty," he breathed in joy and stood, hurriedly kicking his clothes from his body. As he did, Daphne came around to the front of him, and rather casually removed her glasses and her remaining shoe. When he was fully nude in front of her, Theo waited, trembling, fists clenched at his sides as she took him in from head to toe with a sweeping glance, her eyes lingering on the erect length that jutted against his belly.

"There is a sloping chair behind you," she informed. "You will sit in the curve, facing the higher end."

"Yes, Your Majesty." He turned to find the bed had been replaced – apparently, at Daphne's thought – with one of those Tantra Chairs that he'd seen advertised in _PlayWiz_. Oh, wow! She was definitely into kink, as he'd secretly assumed.

He did as she wanted, waiting, aching with need. Daphne came up behind him and seated herself behind him on the smaller hump of the chair. Her dress had worked its way up her thighs as she straddled him, baring the smooth flesh of her legs to his hot gaze. Her calves and thighs were silken, lightly tanned, and toned from all of the stairs they had to climb around the castle.

Gliding her hands all over him, starting at his arms, then his shoulders, his back, and down to his waist, then around to his abs and pecks, his partner felt up every inch of his hot skin with her cool, caressing fingers. "Exceptional, Theo," she breathed against his ear, making him twitch in palpable desire. "Luscious, in fact. You take excellent care of your physique. I appreciate that very much in a man." Her fingernails lightly scraped over the tops of his thighs, and as she bent forward, he could feel her hardened nips behind the satin of her dress pressing against his back.

"Don't stop," he demanded, wishing she'd grab a hold of his todger and start wanking away. Instead, her hands stilled and she bit his earlobe hard in punishment, pulling his head back and to the side.

"_I_ give the orders here," she reminded him firmly with a growl. "Understand, Theo?"

He gulped loudly, and nodded his head, loving her aggressiveness. "Ye… yes, Your Majesty. I'm sorry, Your Majesty."

Her arms wrapped about him, one hand pressing against his heart, the other about his waist. "Because you contravened the rules, Theo, this round will be all about _my_ pleasure, instead of yours, as I'd wanted to do for you. You have sacrificed that opportunity with such impetuousness." Her nails dug in, leaving rounded half-moon indentations in his skin, making him hiss from the unexpected sharp pain. "I am your Mistress, and you will do as I command – as you agreed. Do you understand?"

Whimpering like a whipped puppy, he heedlessly blurted another apology, his only driving thought to get her to relent so he could come soon (otherwise, he'd burst). "Forgive me, Your Majesty! Yes, I understand. I won't do it again!"

Pulling away from him, Daphne stood and walked around in front of him and straddled the chair, looking down at him with disappointment. "The sincerity and eagerness of your response pleases me, Theo. Therefore, I will provide you with a single opportunity to earn my forgiveness – although this round will continue to remain for my pleasure only. However…" She narrowed her eyes in severe warning. "If you fail to do _exactly_ as I want for the remaining time we have in here, this game will end for both of us. I will simply forfeit… and you will never have me. Do you understand, Mr. Nott?"

Theo's panicked response was a detonation of ballistic cold fire in his chest. He'd never had a woman dominate him before, but it had always remained his deepest, most sacred and secret fantasy. Daphne could grant him this closeted fetish that he so _desperately_ wanted, he now understood, and for that reason, he _needed_ to please her. "Yes, Your Majesty! I agree. I'm _so_ sorry! Please, _please_ forgive me." His fingernails bit into the palms of his hands as he clenched his fists in a masochistic fit meant to cause himself some pain for having been so stupid and risking this opportunity with his impatience.

Daphne stared at him with those enigmatic, deeply compelling eyes and Theo felt like a surrendering pet under her gaze. "Set your hands upon my knees."

He immediately leapt to do her bidding. "Yes, Your Majesty!"

"Slowly, run your hands up my legs, moving my dress up as you go," she murmured the command, and his stomach clenched as his cock jumped in anticipation. Where would this lead? Would she ask him to lick her pussy in retribution? Man, he would be so lucky!

"Yes, Your Majesty," he whispered, and holding her gaze, he did as she bade, scrunching the silky, shiny dress up past her thighs, over her hips and bunching it at her waist. She wore a pair of V-String iridescent blue-green satin mesh panties with lace trim that he could just barely see through… and noted that she was completely shaved. "Oh, _hell_," he breathed in awe, wanting to bury his nose right in and start licking.

"Theo, look at me," his Queen commanded.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he responded automatically, gazing into her beautiful, bright eyes once more.

She stared at him, then reached out a hand and traced his cheek, strangely gentle. "Do you want to worship me properly, Theo?" she asked in a low, sultry voice. He lost his ability to speak coherently and could only nod. "Then stand up." He followed her instruction, now looming over her in greater height.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he breathed in what was automatically becoming his favorite phrase of the century.

"Remove my dress," she bid, watching him with a grey-blue enigmatic, unwavering stare. "Slowly."

With his hands already at her waist, he moved the satiny fabric inch by inch up the remainder of her deliciously curved body. Theo's mouth ran dry as he took a good, long gander at the perfection before him. Daphne's belly was flat, her hips flared, her breasts… oh, _bloody hell_, her breasts! They were perfectly ample, just the right size for his tastes, spilling from the top of a matching lacy-satin iridescent green-blue bra. Tugging the dress over her head and arms, he let the fabric slip to the side through his fingers, unheeded.

"Now, tell me, Theo, what your card requires you to perform," she indicated the laminated piece of cardboard lying atop his clothes pile nearby. "Can you recall it from memory?"

He nodded eagerly, and recited the instructions:

_**DEED: Lick and touch your partner's naked chest.**_

Daphne hummed and gave him a sinful smile that made his penis twitch once again, then reached behind her and with a practiced ease, slipped the fastenings on her bra and removed it, allowing it to fall to the side on top of the dress. Theo's breath caught and his heart leapt against the underside of his ribs painfully; her breasts truly were exquisitely shaped, with tiny nipples that were a light pinkish-brown in color. _Such gorgeous nipples_, he thought as his mouth watered at the fantasy of taking them in his mouth right away. It was only with great restraint and a reminder to himself that he didn't want her to get angry with his impatience again and walk away now that he just managed to keep his fingers (and his lips) to himself.

"Sit back down," she required of him, and immediately he obeyed, with a reflexive, "Yes, Your Majesty," erupting from his lips without thought. Sinuously sliding down with him, his partner straddled his lap, and then pushed him slowly into a reclining position over the smaller hump in the funky chair. "Lay back."

When he'd settled so that his spine matched the flow of the chair's design comfortably, Daphne gripped his hands gently and guided them towards her chest to cup her mounds. "You're going to give me pleasure now, Theo. I want you to start off here." Settling herself more firmly over his erection, letting the width of him rest in the middle of her folds, which were slightly damp behind the fabric of her knickers, she gave him a wicked smile and proceeded to teach him. "Were you at all cognizant of the fact that a woman's breasts are an important feature of her feminine image, Theo?" she asked in a softly compelling voice, keeping his hands still and in place, letting him feel the warm, cushiony flesh.

He shook his head. Honestly, he hadn't given the matter much thought. Tits were tits – something to be sucked or held onto while you fucked. "No, Your Majesty."

The smirk on her face widened perceptively. "Oh, yes, quite. We of the feminine persuasion are always consciously aware of their weight upon our chests, of every abrupt temperature change that affects them, of the sensitive reactions elicited by differing elements stroking against them, be it lace or satin or cotton… or oils… or skin. We also gauge them against other women's, reassuring ourselves of their beauty, comparing them in much the same way a man does his penis." He swallowed heavily as she shifted her hips to glide her core up and then back down his stiff cock in tactile example. "They are a beautiful extension of a woman, Theo, faithfully responsive to stimuli that are pleasing, much as your most cherished possession." On the final two words, she slid over him again – just once - making his need flare, then she stilled again.

"Lightly caress my nipples," she commanded. "I want you to learn my body so you can please me properly."

More turned on than he'd ever thought possible, Theo did as his goddess asked, letting his index fingers swipe over the tiny buds, and watched in amazement the actual process of them swelling in response. He was amazed to see them change color, flushing with blood as they became engorged. Why had he never noticed such a small, but awesomely arousing detail before?

Daphne hummed in approval, enjoying his attention, and his eyes shot to her face to watch her reaction. Lust crawled languidly through her ocean-blue depths, her pupils expanding as her body felt the stirrings of need. Her smirk had transformed into a small, pleased smile that decorated her prettily painted lips with an expression he'd only seen once – the afternoon she'd sat across from him on the Common Room couches, relaxed and enjoying herself. That look was what he'd been waiting for… and this time it was directed at _him_, at something he was doing to her, and not some book. "What do they feel like?" she inquired. "Tell me every sensation that caressing my body in this manner is educing from your senses, Theo."

Theo licked his lips and dropped his gaze back to what his hands were doing. "Your skin is so soft… buttery soft," he sighed in pleasure, cupping her breasts and pushing up a bit, squeezing lightly. "And malleable. There's firmness underneath, but it moves about under my fingers."

"Show me what you've learned, Theo," she arched into his hands. "Worship my breasts properly, just as your card allows."

With very light caresses to start, he traced the edges of her medium C-cup breasts one at a time, learning the soft span of flesh with intimate detail. She had a single, light freckle on the top of her left breast, and another underneath her right. He found those beauty marks to be fascinating, not ruining the perfection, but adding to its uniqueness. Her left side was slightly larger than her right, and a tad heavier. Snaking a fingertip over her areola, he circled it many times, just tracing, softly learning Daphne's shape. It was such a sensual thing to do to study the contours of a woman, he was discovering. "Beautiful," he whispered, enraptured by the motion of flesh under his fingers. "I want to run my tongue all over these."

To his surprise, goose bumps decorated her skin and she lightly shivered. He looked up at her in astonishment, and Daphne graced him with a slow, sensual smile. "I give you permission to use your mouth now. Start with your lips only, and then add your tongue, and then your teeth at last. Change the temperature by breathing hot, then blowing cold alternatively. Watch how your attention affects me."

Giddy as a virgin, he leaned in and ran his mouth over the entirety of her breast, following the curves, breathing and blowing upon her skin randomly, enjoying the tiny shivers that raced her spine as he played. Adding his tongue into the mix, circling her nipple, but not touching it, teasing until Daphne decreed he take the tiny bud into his mouth, had been so gratifying! He suckled her breasts, one at a time, alternating pressure as she directed. By the time he'd moved on to the use of his teeth, her nipples were dark from his love bites, delightfully bruised and he was sure, aching in a way that made Daphne quite pleased.

Her voice thrumming with pleasure, Daphne calmly continued with the lesson, rubbing her lower body against his cock in a slow, continuous rhythm now. "A woman's body is a place for your veneration, Theo. While you are touching her or deeply buried inside of her, she must become the center of your adoration and devotion. You achieve this not just with words, Theo, but with every sincere effort you make to bring her pleasure."

He adored the challenge in her eyes. "Yes, Your Majesty," he seductively purred and turned back to his task, loving the feel of her satiny knickers sliding across his length. He nipped at her, bit harder, pulled back as she requested of him, repeated, changed tempos. Then he bit the tender flesh around her areola, leaving a nice imprint behind on her left lower curve. As he worked, Daphne encouraged him with soft words, and when he'd finally put it all together – lathing, stroking, pinching, forcing air of varying warmth and cooling across the sensitive skin, and biting hard enough on the nipple itself to leave another mark, Daphne came for him. It was magic, this gentle bringing, making him _truly_ aware of his partner in a way he had never been before.

She was wholly beautiful as her head tilted towards the sky, her lips parted, her back arched, and her breasts and throat and cheeks rushed with blood. As she yielded to her petite orgasm with a soft moaning sigh, her fingernails gripped his biceps tightly and pressed in sharply, and she shook in his arms allowing herself to finally slip a margin of that tight control she always maintained. She was all feminine grace and strength and vulnerability wrapped up in his arms in that moment. "Daphne," he breathed her name in awe, really _seeing_ her for the first time.

When she came back into herself, his partner's dark eyelashes fluttered open and their gazes connected once more. As they silently watched each other, he awaited her next command, enjoying this game of pleasing her immensely. Sexual contact had never been like this for him previous, and the experience was decidedly heady. Theo craved more. His eyes dropped to her lips as she licked them; _gods_, he wanted to kiss her! "What will you have of me now, my Queen?" he whispered, letting his attention travel the length of her long, peachy-gold throat, down to where his fingers were still lightly caressing her nipples. "Shall I continue?"

Her chest expanded as she took a deeper breath, and then she put some space between them and reached down to grip his penis. She stroked upwards from the base of him with a tight grip, and Theo hissed, tensing up, enjoying the skimming of his most sensitive self. "Oh, _yeah!_" he cried out with delirious desire as she swiped her thumb over his wet crown, circling his tip with her fingers, rubbing softly. "My goddess, Your Majesty, _please_… bring me, too. I beg you!"

Sadistically, her fingers let him go immediately, and he groaned in mounting frustration, looking up at her for intention as she straddled his lap, watching him so calmly, her restraint iron-clad once more. For just a second, he felt a hot stab of anger at her playing with him; he'd given her pleasure, after all and it was only fair that she did likewise for him, right?

"My pleasure only this round, remember?" she reminded him wickedly, even as the lights from the ceiling above reflected gauzy glints of gold all about her, haloing her in an angelic bath of heavenly illumination. "Patience, Theo. Your turn will undoubtedly come at the next opportunity and I have no doubt you'll make me pay for my selfishness tenfold."

His eyes brightened. Yes, in the next round, anything could happen! He might get a really nasty card to try out on her, and then she'd be under his whim…

But did he really want that?

He was rather enjoying being Daphne's submissive. He was not only learning about the more sensual side of sex, but he was fulfilling a fantasy... and honestly, there was something compelling about being with this woman. She drew him in with her formal speech, and her smart talk, and her sexy allure. He'd never felt so utterly charmed by a woman before. "I'll turn over my action to you next round if you will it, my Queen," he heard the words escape his mouth before he'd put much thought to them.

One dark eyebrow rose in curiosity, and her warm hand cupped his cheek, stroking back and forth against his smooth, freshly shaved skin with renewed interest. "You would do that? Why, Theo?"

As he stared up at her from his willing, exposed position at her feet - at her soft, shining pale blue eyes, and her sweetly parted light wine-colored lips, and her lovely cascade of champagne-colored hair - a sudden feeling overcame him, gripping his heart tightly. Unnamed, unknown, it was powerful enough to induce a clenching of his naked abdomen, to propel his stomach to drop, to leave him feeling strangely defenseless. "I… don't… want this to stop, Daphne," he admitted with anxious inspiration. "I like what we're doing."

His Queen watched him carefully, her fingertips tracing over his full lips, apparently considering his offer. "I accept your gift, Theo," she finally agreed, and he felt relief bloom throughout his body, relaxing his muscles again. "Next round we will continue as we are, and perhaps, if the cards are in your favor, I will even pleasure you."

Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against her thighs, letting his hands rest on the sides of her long legs, thanking her silently for her beneficent deliverance.

As they redressed in silence a few minutes later, and while her back was to him, Theo considered all he'd learned about Daphne Greengrass over the last hour. Her movements were precise, she appeared unruffled by getting half-naked with a man she hardly knew, and yet his impression was that this was not something she did regularly with men, so she was no common doxy. Did she feel anything for him at all, aside from some wacked out BDSM needs, though? Or was this all simply a game to her? How many men had she done this sort of thing with anyway?

What had she said yesterday? Something important…

"_I __would like to enjoy it as a game of sultry delight – a conclusive initiation, as it were, into realizing adulthood."_

Maybe he wasn't special to her at all. Maybe he was just one last fling before graduation, as she'd sort of intimated that she wanted. Hell, she hadn't even wanted a kiss from him when he'd tried to give her one not three minutes ago in thanks for what she'd done to him this round; she'd stepped away and shook her head, telling him there would be no kissing between them unless a card required it.

"_When this game ends, you will not pursue me."_

She'd made him swear to that requirement in the beginning of all of this… which meant she didn't have any intention of getting emotionally tangled up with Theo.

When they were ready, and as he reached for the handle to exit the room, allowing Greengrass to go before him, he felt a sinking sensation in his guts. What if he didn't _want _to let her go at the end? He'd seriously liked doing this with her. What if he _wanted_ to pursue her, to explore more of this forbidden side that he'd secretly yearned for? How screwed was he going to be then?

Somehow everything had gotten turned on its head. He'd joined this game so he could fuck a girl – any one, didn't matter to him (although he'd been kind of hoping for Daphne when he'd reached for the _Partners _card). Now, he was finding himself wanting a _specific_ girl, and hopefully, not just for this one night. Only she didn't seem to want him in the same way, as was so obviously evident when she walked past him and sat back down upon the couch, as cool and calmly collected as ever.

Fucking hell, what had he gotten himself into?

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**_TO BE CONTINUED..._**

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**The TantraChair actually exists. I found it quite by accident while googling 'chair' and 'fun' (the queerest things you can get on a search engine!). As soon as I saw it, I thought Daphne and Theo. If you want to see a pic of it and the various positions you can try on it, go to my blog (rzzmg . wordpress . com).**

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "So I Need You" by 3 Doors Down. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**If you could step into my head,  
Tell me, would you still know me?  
And if you woke up in my bed,  
Tell me, then would you hold me?  
Or would you simply let it lie,  
Leaving me to wonder why?  
I can't get you out of this head,  
I call mine.  
And I will say…**_

_**Oh, no, I can't let you go, my little girl,**_  
_**Because you're holding up my world.**_  
_**So I need you.**_  
_**Your imitation of my walk,**_  
_**And the perfect way you talk,**_  
_**Is just a couple of the million things**_  
_**That I love about you.**_  
_**So I need you.**_  
_**So I need you.**_  
_**So I need you.**_  
_**So I need you.**_

_**And if I jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge,**_  
_**Tell me, would you still follow me?**_  
_**And if I made you mad today,**_  
_**Tell me, will you love me tomorrow, please?**_  
_**Or would you say that you don't care,**_  
_**And then leave me standing here**_  
_**Like the fool who is drowning in**_  
_**Despair and screamin'?**_

_**Oh, no, I can't let you go, my little girl,**_  
_**Because you're holding up my world.**_  
_**So I need you.**_  
_**Your imitation of my walk,**_  
_**And the perfect way you talk,**_  
_**Is just a couple of the million things**_  
_**That I love about you.**_  
_**So I need you.**_  
_**So I need you.**_  
_**So I need you.**_  
_**So I need you.**_

_**I'm on my own.**_  
_**I'm on my own.**_  
_**I'm on my own.**_

_**Oh, no, I can't let you go, my little girl,**_  
_**Because you're holding up my world.**_  
_**So I need you.**_  
_**Your imitation of my walk,**_  
_**And the perfect way you talk,**_  
_**Is just a couple of the million things**_  
_**That I love about you.**_  
_**So I need you.**_  
_**So I need you.**_  
_**So I need you.**_  
_**So I need you.**_


	7. Chapter 2E: Blaise & Ginny

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__**Your author**__(that would the one writing this story… hehehe) __thought the song, __**"**_**Remember When It Rained**_**" by Josh Groban **__was perfect__for Blaise & Ginny this go around, specifically for Blaise's thoughts. Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK (rzzmg at yahoo dot com)! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

**PLEASE REVIEW, FOLKS! What did you think of this chapter? **

* * *

_**CHAPTER TWO (#5): BLAISE & GINNY**_

Ginny was _fuming_ mad that she'd been stuck with Blaise as a partner – he could see it in the set of her shoulders and in the fire in her eyes. He inwardly chuckled, enjoying her discomfort. He did find it strangely fortuitous that he'd drawn her for his game companion, considering Drake hadn't been able to cheat to arrange it for him. It must have been Fate, he supposed, just as Malfoy had explained the odd coincidence to Granger. Apparently, he'd been meant to have this time with the Weasley girl, and so he intended on making the most of it.

They squared-off on either side of the white bed, with its white blankets and pillows, in their floor-to-ceiling white room, her staring at him with distinct loathing, while he stood in parallel opposition, infinitely pleased with the idea of being her 'date' for the duration. They'd been silent for the past five minutes, neither willing to back down.

"For Godric's sake," his redheaded fascination finally growled. "Are you going to go first or shall I? This is getting ridiculous."

"So forfeit," he challenged, smirking at her.

Ginny scoffed. "Not a chance."

"Since I drew my card first, I'll go, then," he decided, and read the card out loud to her…

_**DEED: Spank and/or rub sensually your partner's naked bum over your lap.**_

His partner gasped and turned white as a ghost. A sneaky suspicion overtook him. "It's yours, isn't it?"

Glumly, she nodded. "I don't suppose you'd consider _not _doing it?"

Even before the fifth word was out of her mouth, Blaise heartlessly dashed her hopes against the rocks, shaking his head. "I'm not quitting this game until I'm satisfied, Weasley, and that won't happen until _after_ you're under me, begging to come, screaming my name to the rooftops as I fuck you six ways from Sunday."

"You unmitigated bastard," she hissed, looking for all the world like one of the Three Furies, her cheeks flushed, eyes spitting fire, fists clenched at her sides, and chest heaving with the need to unleash violence. "I'll fight you tooth and nail. I won't make this easy for you!"

Leering, Blaise gazed into her dark sienna depths with lustful anticipation, feeling his blood ignite in his triumph. He thought up what he wanted to fulfill this requirement, and next to him appeared a white cozy chair with no arms. He took a seat in it, adopting a lazy, exalted posture. "You might want to ditch the jacket at the same time as your knickers. For your own comfort's sake." When she didn't immediately move, he let his witch stew for thirty more seconds. "Every minute you delay I'm taking out of your minutes, you know. And as the first to go, if I don't get in my twenty-five minutes, that means you've forfeited the game."

With a sneer of unadulterated hatred, Ginevra Weasley stripped off her jacket, untying the ribbon and whipping it through the eyelets with quick, nimble fingers. Shucking the coat from her shoulders, she caught it and folded it, placing it on the bed with care. Angry though she was with him, clearly she wasn't going to ruin her outfit for his sake.

When he caught a look at what little she was wearing under the jacket, Blaise's heart leapt into his throat. It was a simple slip dress that narrowed at the waist, showing off her curves. It had a plunging sweetheart neckline that allowed the barest amount of succulent cleavage to show. Lacy spaghetti straps held it in place. Wearing just that and the thigh-high stockings – which did not meet the hem of her dress, leaving a few centimeters of flesh bared – and the heels… "Beautiful, my little lioness," he breathed in awe. "Flirty, sexy." He smiled, throwing out sultriness in waves. "I like it very much."

She sniffed with disdain. "I didn't wear it for _you_. I was honestly hoping for Seamus."

Whatever warmth Blaise had managed to siphon out of their minimal discussion so far was leached away with that one comment. In its place settled the ugly, bile-laden acid of jealousy.

"Tick, tock, Weasley. Get that arse over here so I can spank it good."

Ginny gave him a flat stare. "You fink. Torturing me with my own slagging card. What kind of man are you anyway?"

He narrowed his eyes in ire. "The kind that's going to give it to you like you deserve. Now take your knickers down and lay across my lap before I call foul and you lose."

The bloom of crimson painted her cheeks, showed how truly mortified his partner was as she reached up under her dress and slipped a pair of black, satin-lace panties off, putting them on the bed next to her jacket. It then took her two deep breaths and apparently a whole lot of Gryffindor courage to walk over to him and bend over his lap. Hanging with her head down, she waited for his first blow to land, awkwardly tense.

Gently, Blaise lifted the hem of her dress, exposing her bare bum to his hot stare.

"My, what a sweet-looking arse you have, Ginevra," he murmured, thoroughly entranced. Rubbing all along the curves of her buttocks in slow circles, he began his torment of his heart's greatest obsession. His fingers danced across her waist, smoothing down her hip, and around to cup the soft mounds of her backside. "Such pretty, creamy skin - soft and curvy," he continued caressing her, unable to deny his need to touch every inch of skin. Dipping into the sway at her spine's end, he circled the tiny mole she had just above her right cheek. "Your uniforms do your bum no justice, my little lioness. I'd have never known how delicious this side of you was if not for this game."

"Just get it over with," she grouched, her nails clenching the plush, white shag rug beneath their feet.

"So eager are we to be punished?" he wondered aloud, continuing to torture her with tender contact. "Tell me, has anyone ever spanked you before, Ginevra?"

She barked a laugh. "Plenty of times. Loads of men have. You'd be no different."

An expert on ferreting out untruths amongst his Housemates, Blaise heard the obvious lie in her voice, said out of a need to falsify bravado in the face of her shame. "Tsk, tsk. Lies aren't a Gryffindor trait, kitten."

"No, they're the province of you slimy Slytherins," she goaded.

"Perhaps," he acknowledged, running a single digit up the middle of her cheeks, barely touching her tiny, rear entrance. He purposefully stroked the spot with loving attention, wanting to prolong his getting to know her in this manner. "Has anyone ever fucked you here?" he asked, tickling the small hole with a flick.

His partner sharply inhaled and held her breath, and her cheeks tightened up. There was a long, pregnant pause. "Don't," she choked, clearly uncomfortable with him touching her there. "You can spank me and… and rub me outside, but don't-" She faltered, losing her nerve.

"Don't what, Ginevra?" he asked, sincerely curious now. She sounded and acted as if she were… well, _terrified_ – which was wholly uncharacteristic for his brave lioness. He left his finger temporarily resting in place, trapped by her tensed muscles as it was, not quite yet ready to leave off until he was given a good reason. This was his reward, after all, and he wanted to touch every bit of her during this game if possible – even places she would consider 'forbidden.' He gently prodded her teeny, furrowed opening, wiggling against the creased skin, allowing the tip of his finger to very carefully poke – not enough to break through, but enough to cause her breathing to kick up in distress. "What _don't_ you want me to do?" he posed the question in a different way, curious as to why this act intensely bothered her.

He actually heard her swallow, the gulp loud and heavy and knew that whatever she was thinking, it was not just embarrassing to voice, but quite clearly painful, too. "Don't go inside there. You can do anything else you want to me, Zabini, and I won't flinch, but that-"

"It's your limit," he finished for her. "It will make you quit this game, won't it?"

A critical pause followed for a beat, then two before she replied.

"Yes, it's the only thing that will."

He removed his finger from her grip and began stroking her rounded flesh again. "What if I made such a thing very pleasurable for you, my lioness?"

She firmly shook her head, her long, fiery hair flopping about on the carpet. "There is no way that could ever feel good. _No. Fucking. Way._ So, just… don't go there. Please."

He hummed, dropping the matter for now, knowing eventually that they'd talk about it. He was determine to know the reason such a thing had horrified her so. Who had touched her there and caused her enough pain to actually scare her? A cold, leaden weight settled in his chest at the imagined thought of her screaming and crying as some unknown man violently penetrated her little rosette, tearing into her. If that was the case, he'd personally hunt the man down later…

"Are you ready now, my lovely kitten?" he asked in a deceptively calm voice, still touching her sensually, exciting her nerves all along his intended area of purchase. He was going to make that pretty, pale skin turn scarlet.

She was quiet for another half minute. "I won't stoop to begging you not to, so if you're going to do it, just do it already."

"Fair enough," he returned, and then his hand came down on her arse, and the contact of hard flesh on flesh he knew had to have stung something fierce. For her part, Ginny did not scream. She did not make a single noise, in fact.

_Had_ anyone ever spanked her? She hadn't answered truthfully. He bet he could get her to tell him now. "I'll ask you again, my lioness: has anyone ever done this to you before? Be truthful this time or I'll add five extra spanks on the end just for trying to deceive me."

"If anyone should know about deceit, you double-dealing serpent -," she cursed him, but he cut off what he was sure to be a scathing insult with another resounding slap.

"Answer the question, Ginevra," he commanded. "It's a simple request."

She shook her head again. "I don't have to do anything of the sort. The card doesn't require me to divulge my private interests to you. It doesn't require me to interact with you at all, except to allow you to humiliate me like this, Zabini - you Slytherin bastard. So, I think I'll just keep my mouth shut and let you spend the rest of your days wondering whether I let men do this to me in the privacy of my bedchambers."

He spanked her again, a little harder. "Language, young lady," he scolded. "I've let you get away with calling me a bastard twice tonight. No more."

"I hate you," she spat with venom. "I loathe the very ground you walk on, you slimy, reptilian…"

_Smack!_

"You're too wild for your own good, Weasley," he caressed her pinking bottom. "I think I'll rein in that mouth and temper of yours during this game. That'll be one of my goals."

"Bite me, you sleezy whore corpse."

_Whap._

Blaise shook his head, amused with her audacity. "Keep it up, sweet thing. I love watching your pretty arse blush for me." He stroked her erotically in between slaps now, just to add some spice to the mix.

"You're a total arsehat, Zabini, you know that?"

_Whack._

"I think it's time we got a little more serious, Ginevra," he forewarned her. "Apparently, my message isn't getting across." He stepped up his strikes, putting a little more force into them – not enough to bruise or injure, but enough to rouge up her bum nicely. His hand slapped her tender flesh again. "That's for all the years you looked down your nose at me, lady."

Ginny gasped in outrage and whimpered this time when his hand came down. Her bottom must be nettled by now. "Why you hypocritical jerk! I didn't look down my nose at you until you did at me!"

Another stinging slap rang through the high ceilinged room. "And that's for all the times you slammed me in Quidditch."

Growling in true anger, he knew she was restraining herself from perpetrating violence back at him, her whole body quivering now in vehement rage. "You slammed me right back! Don't you dare deny it!"

He gave her another satisfactory blow. "And that's for all the names you've called me over the years to your friends when you didn't think I was listening."

She hissed then, sounding just like a viper about to strike. "You eavesdrop on my conversations? What the hell, Zabini? Got nothing better to do than to stalk me, you sick fuckwallop?"

He slapped her again. "Profanities from such a lovely mouth should be outlawed," he mocked, loving her outraged scream, which she bit back behind clenched teeth. He then gave her three more slaps in succession, each one as passionate as the last. Finally, her bum was a nice scarlet in color, and Blaise felt quite vindicated for all of her slights over the last two years. It was time to end her torment and give her some pleasure now.

Returning to rubbing gentle hands over the warmed flesh, he soothed the pain he had caused away with soft massaging. Ginevra had stopped squirming and lay limply across his lap, unresisting. "And this… this, my dear lioness, is because you have never backed down from me, and because you have never let me beat you into submission. Not even now, as you lie across me, hating me with every fiber of your being, as I stroke your beautiful, ruby hind."

With a sigh of contentment, he bent his tall frame down and laid his cheek against her buttocks, nuzzling her softly.

"What are you doing?" his obsession asked, suddenly panicked, going rigid again. "You're only allowed to rub."

Turning his head, he ran his lips over her cherry skin. "I _am_ rubbing, Ginevra. The card doesn't say what body parts I'm confined to using for this task, though." He ran his bottom lip over the curve of her spine. "You should have been more specific when you wrote it down, my fiery kitten. You left it open to interpretation… and I'm interpreting it to mean rubbing you with my lips and tongue right now."

"Oh, hell no!" she shrieked, indignant. "Let me up this instant! Isn't your turn over yet?"

Blaise chuckled darkly. "Not yet. I still have fourteen minutes. So, for the next thirteen and so many seconds, I intend upon rubbing you properly. Just lie back and enjoy."

"I don't _want _to enjoy anything you do to me, you twisted narcissist!" she yelled.

Licking along her spinal column, Blaise used his fingers to once more stroke along the bottom curves, creeping closer to the center divide, teasing, retreating, returning over and over again. "Ah, but _I _want you to, my lioness. And since this is _my_ reward…"

"I am _so_ going to make you pay for this," she promised fervently.

He let his lips and tongue trail down to the split of her backside. "What you fail to understand, Ginevra, is that I'll let you do _anything_ to me, so long as I get to fuck you – preferably several times and in different positions - in the end. Nothing else matters for the next twenty-four hours." With that, he traced every inch of her bum, placed wet, sucking kisses all along the tender skin, dipping down as far as he could go to lick, tasting a bit of her salty quim in the deal. He even separated her cheeks at one point and tickled her back opening with his tongue – just over the outside. He started with light flicks around the small, puckered hole, making her squirm, and then boldly lathed all up her center, coating her with his saliva. In his arms, his lioness quavered, and her breathing grew ragged as he pushed her comfort levels, retreating when he felt he'd too-far stretched her limits finally.

When he'd covered every bit of her, and rubbed away the pain, he noticed that Weasley was strangely silent and had gone deathly still, her trembling ceased all together. In fact… He leaned his head back down between her legs and inhaled deeply.

My, my… she was _very_ aroused.

Gently moving one leg outward, he opened her up a bit and looked. There, glistening at her pretty, small entrance, lay the proof of her excitement.

Blaise hummed appreciatively, even as his cock leapt awake. He let his fingers span across the back of his woman's thigh, careful to keep contact with her bottom, so that he didn't violate the card. "You're wet for me, my beautiful lioness," he acknowledged. Against his thumb, he could feel her pulse through her femoral artery pounding like mad. "Would you like me to keep exploring? Would you like me to touch you differently?"

"No… no, let me up," she stammered weakly.

He paused a moment. "Are you sure, Ginevra?" he asked seductively. "No one has to know what we do here. I'm good at keeping secrets." He lazily stroked the inside of her thigh, inching towards her vagina, keeping his pinky finger in place so she couldn't call foul. "And I promise to make you feel good. No more pain. Only pleasure."

A heartbeat or two passed as she considered his offer, and then she shook her head firmly. "No. I'm not required to endure anything more than what you've already done to me."

Endure? She'd actually gotten off on what he'd done to her! As he'd suspected, his lioness was a closet sex kitten, who actually liked the whole BDSM thing.

"Let me up, Zabini," she demanded again. "You've had your fun humiliating me thoroughly."

She started to rise, but he put a hand on her spine to stop her. "Not just yet." Before she could protest, he bent again and kissed her on both cheeks. Then, he sat back and let her go.

Ginevra turned stony eyes to him, her face as flushed as her bottom had been earlier. Without another word, she turned and walked back to the bed to grab her knickers and slipped them back on. She put her arms through her jacket, but left it undone for now, then sat gingerly on the bed, picked up her card and read it aloud.

_**DEED: You get to ask your partner any five questions you want about them and they must answer wholly and truthfully.**_

Sitting back in the chair, Blaise crossed his legs in the typical European fashion and stared down his partner. "Ask away. I have nothing to hide, Ginevra."

_Nothing you're likely to guess, anyway._

Cool, whiskey brown eyes glittered with icy hatred for him. "All right then. Question one," she began without further ado. "What's your True Wizarding Name?"

Blaise felt the color drain from his cheeks. He'd been wrong – there _was _something he had to hide from her, and this would be it. This was one of his two big secrets that could be used to utterly destroy him. A wizard's or witch's True Name was something only they and their parents knew. No one else was privy to this most sacred of secrets – not even the Ministry. Usually, not even spouses had disclosure, in case of divorce. A TWN was first bound to a magical, non-Squib child (well, half-bloods and pure-bloods; he wasn't sure what Muggleborns did, as they didn't have magical parents to bind them to the name) at the age of five, and then reaffirmed and rebound to the child when they began their magical training at the age of eleven, before they went off to school for the first time. It was the most closely guarded secret of a witch or wizard's lives, as it was the gateway to their magical ability. It's how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named managed to control his Death Eaters in the Dark War, twenty-eight years prior; the madman's loyal followers had given their Master their True Wizarding Names when they swore fealty to his cause. As a result, he'd been able to slide through their minds any time he'd wanted, day or night, and he'd had the power to summon them to his side using the magic of the Dark Mark he'd branded on them.

If he gave his companion his TWN, she could abuse him with it for the rest of his life, forcing him to do things against his will, much like the Imperius Curse. If he didn't give her the name, he had to forfeit the game right here and now.

How badly did he want her again? Was it worth this price?

Leaning his head back against the chair's cushion, he stared up at the ceiling and ran his hands over his face. For a Gryffindor, she'd just neatly maneuvered him into a very Slytherin ruse – which he found totally hot, and yet one more reason why he had to have her.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK! He was so screwed!

Reveling in his mental torment, Ginevra smiled at him with a flat, serpentine gaze. "Tick, tock," she mimicked his earlier sentiment.

Gritting his teeth, he growled out his own demand, wanting at least some power in this negotiation. "I want an Oath from you not to tell anyone else my TWN, and not to use it against me."

Weasley firmly shook her head. "I'll compromise and agree to the first, but the second, no. It's my guarantee that you can't ever hurt me again." She innocently held her hands out to the side as if to say, 'What are you going to do?' and shrugged, all the while grinning like a man-eating shark. "Take it or leave it, Zabini. Tell me the name or quit the game. Your choice."

He stared hard at her. Was this really worth it? Was she?

The answer to that question was obvious and required no serious consideration: everything inside of him called out to have Ginny. He'd stood back for two years and seethed in helpless frustration watching her dally with other boys, barely restraining his need to do violence upon the competition. He'd almost committed murder the day after she'd given away her virginity to Potter, having felt the shift in her sexual aura and instinctively known what it meant, and he'd despaired and raged – _oh, how he'd gone mad and thundered about!_ - at the lost opportunity to own that important piece of her. Now his desperation had reached a peak. He was a man on the edge, and he had to have her, and this game gave him the only legitimate excuse. If he quit now, he was certain she wouldn't let him anywhere near her ever again, especially after that spanking, and then he'd end up becoming the monster he feared he might for too many years to take what he wanted. If things went that far, he'd hate himself forever.

No, there was no choice but to go on.

"Fucking, buggering hell!"

"You said it," his partner cheerfully agreed. "So, I guess this means you'll be dropping out of the game now? Too bad, that. But, a shag is hardly worth the risk." He heard her stand up and make her way to the door. "I'll just tell the others and make your excuses. Ta-ta, Zabini!"

He heard her turn the knob and panicked. "Shut the fucking door, Ginny! We're not done here yet," he snarled and stood up, pacing back and forth, feeling a muscle in his eye twitch in irritation. "Fine, I'll give you your answer."

It took her a good twenty seconds to move, as if she were too shocked to comprehend what he was about to do, and then she quietly closed the door and came to sit back on the edge of the mattress, waiting.

He put his hands over his face again, refusing to look at her, unable to believe he was about to make what would be, he was quite sure, the biggest mistake of his life. "Take the Oath first," he stipulated. "Right now. Swear on your power as a witch that you will never, under any circumstance, reveal my True Wizarding Name to another for as long as your soul walks the Earth, whether in life or as a ghost."

His partner raised an eyebrow at that. "Extreme, but fine." She held her hand up over her heart. "I, Ginevra Molly Weasley, do hereby swear upon my power as a witch and a practitioner of magic that I will never, under any circumstance, reveal Blaise Zabini's True Wizarding Name to another soul for as long as my soul walks the Earth, whether in life or as a ghost."

There was no glow, or fireworks, or sound of a ringing bell, but the oath she had just undertaken would certainly now bind her powers to it as firmly as if she had signed a magical contract before the entire Wizengamot. It was the best he could ask for, since an Unbreakable Oath wasn't available to them right then (as they'd need to include a third party to bind them, and then they'd have to explain all of this mess to that person – which Blaise had absolutely _no_ intention of ever doing).

His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. "_MERDA!_" he swore, then turned and pointed an emphatic finger at the little redhead sitting on the mattress and claimed her right then and there as his own, out in the open, for her to know upfront and unhidden. "Tonight, I'm going to fuck you hard for this, Weasley - all over this sodding room. I'm going to own you body and soul. And after this _bloody_ game is over, I'm coming after you for more, I swear it! You're _mine!_"

Ginevra waved him on. "Sure, sure. Whatever. Spill it or forfeit already. We're wasting time."

Gritting his teeth, Blaise ran a hand one more time over his closely-shaved head, shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "My given name is Blaise Alessandro Zabini." He turned and looked his woman dead in the eye. "My True Wizarding Name is Blasius Cyne Sovrano Zabini. It means 'Fiery Royal Ruler.'"

To his surprise, his lioness did not laugh. In fact, she looked rather shocked that he'd actually done it. In truth, he felt positively ill. A cold abyss opened up in his stomach and his guts dropped into it like a ton of bricks, nauseatingly free falling.

Weasley opened her mouth, and Blaise knew – _just knew_ – what she was going to say. "Don't you dare," he warned her, frowning, stern.

Blinking with faux innocence, looking entirely too scrumptious for his sanity at the moment, she _absolutely _dared. "It's a very nice name, Blasius."

At the tingle along his spine at the speaking of just one of his three magical names, Blaise started swearing his head off, pacing back and forth, feeling utterly defenseless. What had he done? Was he completely insane?

"Tsk, tsk, Zabini. Language," his auburn-headed minx mocked, smirking. "Now we're even. You made me vulnerable, and I've made you vulnerable. We both have secrets about the other we're never going to tell anyone else. I think that's more than fair."

She would, as the situation appealed to her Gryffindor sensibilities. It rubbed his Slytherin ones all wrong, though. He swore some more, this time in Italian so she wouldn't understand him.

"You quite done?" she inquired. "We should move on, because this round's almost over and I still have four more questions for you."

Blaise stopped cold, turned to her and gaped. How could she continue on after having manipulated him so fantastically? Didn't she realize that now she could just use his name and order him to quit, and he'd have no choice but to obey? Fuck, was she really that naïve that she had no idea of the power she now held over his will?

Weasley had the audacity to shrug, clearly not understanding the look he threw her way – either that, or intentionally ignoring the five-thousand kilo bull elephant in the room in favor of torturing him further. "Question two: what's your favorite color?"

He narrowed his eyes and assessed her – facial expression, body posture, even down to the nervous jittering of her crossed legs. She wasn't curious about something as simple as his list of favorite things. No, she recognized what she'd just put him through and was going easy on him now. Her bloody Gryffindor compassion had kicked in – which meant she had no intention of exploiting his TWN, as a less-scrupulous Slytherin might were the situation reversed. Knowing that didn't help to alleviate his anxiety much, for he also understood that although she seemed rather benign now, she _would_ abuse his name if the conditions were right. His little kitten had sharp claws when provoked.

"Waste of a question. Purple." He indicated his shirt with a tug. "Next."

"Give me the run down on your family. Question three: how many Zabinis are you?"

Sighing, he slumped back down into the cozy chair, having paced himself out and resigned himself to his fate. "I have five sisters and one brother. I'm dead in the middle of them all, the eldest being twenty-three – that's my brother, the youngest ten. My mum's a Black Widow, and my dad barely escaped her web. We're purebloods, the lot. Next."

"You have an older brother, hmm?" She seemed piqued by that little fact. "Does he look like you?"

Blaise shook his head. "None of my siblings come from the same father, so technically we're all half-brother and sisters. My dad was from Morocco. The rest of my siblings are as white as you."

"Well, well, well," she breathed, tapping a finger against those pretty lips of hers in consideration. "You might have to introduce me to big brother some day, Zabini. Maybe he'll prove to be much more considerate of a girl's needs."

Inside his chest, Blaise's heart locked down, squeezing tight. The thought of his lioness sidling up to Lorenzo – who was all charm and charisma personified, with his tall build, tight blond locks and piercing bronze eyes – positively infuriated him.

"Are you growling?" his partner asked with incredulity.

"Ask your next bloody question," he commanded between grit teeth. "I want out of here pronto. I need air."

She looked at him askance. "Question four: do you hate me?"

"No."

It was the truth. He didn't hate her. Not at all. What he hated was that she despised _him_.

Clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth, Weasley pondered that, and her last question. "Hmmm… Let's see… Question five: what's your favorite memory from Hogwarts? In other words, what one thing will you remember for the rest of your life when you leave here next weekend?"

Blaise's heart slammed under his ribs; he was physically shaking in fury now. He pursed his lips and angrily stared of her, not wanting to reveal anymore hidden parts of his soul, but knowing he had no choice. The spell on the cards was going to force this one since he'd chosen to answer the first question and not forfeit. And hell, it wasn't like she'd just stripped him of his last defense in getting out of him his True Wizarding Name. What more could she do to him now that she'd totally unmanned him?

"You," he very softly stated, livid inside that he was obligated to say this out loud. "On your broom this last game, when Potter caught the Snitch and won the Cup for your House. The rain had just stopped and the sun had peeked out through the clouds, and the light was glinting like fire off that crimson hair of yours as it blew about in the wind. Your eyes were bright and shining with happiness, and your smile was so _fucking _beautiful that it hurt to look at it." He stared at the white shag rug beneath his feet, wishing he had the magic to command his feelings to die out as assuredly as his pride was doing right then. "All I could think in that moment was how you were like that Tonge painting – the redheaded angel, dancing in the air, temporarily keeping the storm at bay." He closed his eyes, awash with rioting emotion. "You hovered at my side when the game was called, then turned to me and said-"

"'It was fun, Zabini,'" she whispered in remembrance across the space between them. "'I'll miss you.'"

His head jerked up, their eyes met, and in her lovely dark cinnamon gaze were wavering, unshed tears. He spied her understanding of his situation in the way she gripped her hands together, as if in prayer, over her breast.

"You win, my lioness. The memory I'll never be able to forget is _you_," he admitted, fighting the catch in his throat.

Emotionally naked, exposed as a fraud, Blaise knew in those seconds that there was nowhere left for him to hide. None of his Slytherin training was going to save him from this fall. With his heart bloodied and raw, he stood up and stormed from the room in irrational self-hatred, slamming the door behind him, hurting so thoroughly at his very core that he couldn't find the will to actually answer when Theo asked him what was wrong as he went to sit on the couch at his friend's side.

_Everything's wrong,_ he wanted to scream. _It's over with now. She knows!_

Laying his head back on the cushions of the couch, Blaise pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and cursed himself a fool, seriously considering quitting the game. The memory of Ginny's tears haunted him behind his closed lids.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Merda! = Italian swear meaning "shit!"**

**Blasius = (pronounced 'blaa-see-us') Ancient Roman name that the French name "Blaise" derives from. Means 'fiery.'**

**Cyne = (pronounced 'sine') Old English for "royal." **

**Sovrano = (pronounced 'soov-ra-no') Italian for "ruler" (as in leader, not the measuring stick).**

_**Musical Selection for this chapter: "Remember When It Rained" by Josh Grobin. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**Wash away the thoughts inside  
That keep my mind away from you.  
No more love and no more pride,  
And thoughts are all I have to do.**_

_**Ohhhhhh, remember when it rained.  
Felt the ground and looked up high  
And called your name.  
Ohhhhhh, remember when it rained.  
In the darkness I remain.**_

_**Tears of hope run down my skin.  
Tears for you that will not dry.  
They magnify the one within,  
And let the outside slowly die.**_

_**Ohhhhhh, remember when it rained.  
I felt the ground and looked up high  
And called your name.  
Ohhhhhh, remember when it rained.  
In the water I remain.  
Running down…  
Running down…**_


	8. Chapter 2F: Seamus & Lavender

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: My husband **__(yes, he does read my fics and yes, it does make me blush terribly to know that!) recommended the song, __**"Be There" by U2 **__for Seamus & Lavender this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Theo's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**my hubby man **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK to: rzzmg at yahoo dot com.**

**Please review!**

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_**CHAPTER TWO (#6): SEAMUS & LAVENDER**_

Seamus allowed his partner to pick out the room she wanted from those remaining. They got to a door just before Harry and Tracey, and Ron and Pansy, and so weren't the last ones in, even though Lavender was clearly dragging her feet. The room's décor, however, left much to be desired, as it was too bloody white, so with a thought, he changed it to something they might both be more comfortable with: the Gryffindor common room.

His ex-girlfriend looked about, shocked as the room changed every aspect of itself to suit his wishes. "That is one thing about the Room of Requirement I will never get used to," she admitted, shaking her head.

"Ye've been here a'fore then?" Seamus asked, taking off his jacket and jumper, tossing them both over the familiar russet-red couch, and then lounging back into the corner of the sofa. The magically-lit hearth directly across from him gave off no heat; it was merely ambiance for the room, as the lighting had dropped to the common room's usual somewhat dim levels.

Lavender took the cozy chair directly next to the sofa, facing him. "Once," she admitted. "On a date."

"Wit' one o' me mates?" he asked, smiling, working on fighting his Irish lilt, trying to sound more British. It had been his goal for the past year to 'clean up' his accent, so that people could better understand him. His brogue was always thickest right after returning to school from a holiday break or when he was a tad nervous – like now.

Lavender looked at him askance and cleared her throat. "Aren't we on a time limit to perform these things?" she asked, holding up her card. "Not that I'm particularly rushing to do them, but…"

Seamus' good humor deflated. "I thought ta make this easier for ya, angel. Ta get used ta me," he explained. "My card, ya see… it's a wee bit… frisky."

His partner's lids flared wide and she paled. "How frisky?"

He read the card aloud to her:

_**DEED: Your partner has to kiss your neck, ears, face and lips as you instruct them.**_

When he glanced back over at his witch, she was frowning. In fact, she looked almost a tad rebellious, as if she were contemplating forfeiting. Truthfully, he'd been looking forward to this reward, as it seemed a nice place for them to start over, but as he watched her hands clench in her lap and her gaze fall to the floor in consternation, he knew she honestly didn't want to be there with him or touching him like that again. The idea was sobering.

"Do ya want ta talk some more?" he asked, wanting to make this easier on her. "I don't mind easin' inta this with some conversation."

It took her another minute of contemplation before she hesitantly shook her head. "No, that wouldn't help."

With a sigh, she stood, dropped her card on the chair she vacated, and crossed to him. "Um, how do you want to do this? Maybe you should stand up and-"

Seamus decided that it was time to throw her off; she was thinking too much about this and getting herself worked-up. Leaning forward, he grabbed both her hands and yanked, cutting off her thought and dropping her directly into his lap. She stumbled into position over him, her knees falling exactly where he'd hoped: to either side of his legs.

"This is where ya'll want ta be," he teased, smiling.

Shocked, Lavender just sat there, her face inches from his, eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise. Anger, however, quickly replaced her momentary astonishment. She sat back on his thighs and scowled, and he knew from the way her hands shot to her waist – a stance his Mam had perfected when squaring off with him - that a scolding was coming. He thought it the cutest expression he'd ever seen on her.

"Other women may fall for that, Finnigan, but I won't let you push me around," she declared, glaring at him. "That means no pawing me. The card doesn't say you get to touch this time. I could call what you just did a foul."

His jaw dropped. She wouldn't! Not over something that insignificant. "Was only a wee bit o' teasing, love. I meant no harm." He put his hands up between them in innocent protest. "Ya have me promise not ta touch ya again during yer turn, all right?" He promptly shoved both hands down the sides of the couch cushions and trapped them there, trying to look thoroughly chastised and apologetic.

Lavender gave him a wary, measured stare, and nodded, accepting his contrite admission of wrongdoing. Her gaze then wandered, rather unconsciously he thought, to his lips. "So, um… I have to kiss you."

He gave her a wicked smile. "As I want ya ta," he reminded her. "It's me reward, after all." He licked his lips, thinking of a good starting point, watching his partner's cheeks redden with heat and her eyes glaze with passion. Oh, yeah, she was already feeling it, wasn't she? The effect of his blood's magic was quick to pull at his female partners, he knew. "I'd like ya ta start at me neck," he tilted his head to the right. "Kiss all up and down now, leavin' no bit untouched."

Lavender looked positively distraught, but with a sigh, bent her lips to his throat and pressed down. Her kisses were fast and chaste as she rushed to finish. He wouldn't be having any of that!

"Slower. Take yer time," he coaxed into her ear, which was right next to his lips. "Relax. Enjoy me. I canna touch ya, remember?"

He felt her throat convulse around a nervous swallow against him as she did as he bade, letting her mouth slow in its contact, let it linger a bit over each spot it touched.

"That's it, love. Take control o' me, ya?" he encouraged, already aroused by her scent and just the idea of her touching him again in any capacity. He'd waited two years to get back here with this witch, and hadn't realized until just then how much he'd missed her in this way. Somehow, Lavender had a hold on him that no other witch had been able to match. He wondered if it didn't have something to do with his mother's heritage... "Use yer tongue and give me wet kisses. Ahhh, _yes!_ Like that, sweet angel." He shivered when her kisses melded into soft, moist things that lathered across his throat, right over his quickly beating pulse. "Leave me a love bite, will ya? Right there."

Lavender did as he wanted, suckling hard on a particular spot that shot fire straight down through his spine and into his trousers. "Yes, leave yer mark on me," he begged, loving the idea.

After long seconds of concentrated sucking on the one spot, she lifted her mouth away and sat back, turning his head a bit to examine her work.

"Did ya like doing that ta me, angel?" he asked, watching her from the corner of his vision as her fingertips traced around the spot she'd just bruised. "Tell me the truth. Did ya?"

Reluctantly, she nodded.

"Then kiss me some more, love. Use yer teeth this time, if ya will. Not sharp. Nice and light."

Bending back into the crook of his neck, his partner complied, and the scrape of those even, white teeth against the hot skin of his neck made Seamus groan and all of the blood in his body gather between his legs. He coaxed Lavender on by continuing to direct her ministrations on his throat, requiring her to give equal attention to his other side, where she sucked and left another love bite.

Her hands, by this time, were gripping his shoulders, and the crescents of her nails were digging in as she got into the dominant position she'd taken over him. She wiggled on his lap, and he knew she must be feeling his so-obvious erection. "I like this, Lavender," he whispered, nuzzling the shell of her ear with his nose. "I like this _a lot_, sweet lass. Yer mouth was made fer kissin', I've always thought."

"Just kissing?" she paused, her breath a hot pant against his throat.

He shook his head. "Kissin' and lovin' and laughin'. Everything about ya, angel, was made fer happiness. It pulls me ta ya, dontcha know?" He ran his lips ever-so-light down her throat, not quite violating the rules. "But I want more right now. Will ya kiss me jaw and chin next? Soft kisses, slow. Let me feel that sweet mouth o' yers all o'er me."

A slight pause, a small shudder, and then her lips were caressing across his face as he'd asked, working towards his lips. It felt like butterfly wings tickling his face – soft, teasing, elusive. His hands clenched into fists as she pressed a light touch against the corner of his mouth. So close, just a bit more…

Circling around to the other side, Lavender did as he wanted and no more. Seamus could feel the trembling in her body, and knew she was scared of what they were doing. He'd been watching her on and off for a very long time, waiting for another chance to come along, but he also recognized that she'd been purposefully avoiding him all that time – which meant she was still uncomfortable about what had happened between them two years ago in that empty dorm room. He intended on making up for that during this game, but in order to do that, he needed to get past her defensive walls. That meant pushing her a little further.

"Kiss me lips, sweet angel," he pleaded in a gentle whisper. "Let me taste ya again, proper."

His partner's breathing kicked up a notch, and her shaking increased.

"Lavender," he purred across her skin. "Let me make up for the past. I'll make it good for ya. Just kiss me and ye'll see."

Her chest hitched as she slid her cheek along his, until their noses touched and they stared into each other's eyes. "You hurt me, Sea," she told him in all earnestness. "I don't trust you."

There was pain in those lovely eyes of hers, and Seamus felt the heavy weight of guilt for having put it there. He didn't like hurting women; it always left him unsettled in his belly. Women were made for loving, in his opinion. "I wanted ta make it right, angel," he explained. "But ya wouldn't let me say sorry! I've been waitin' for another go, but ya never let me near."

"I don't want to kiss you," she told him, turning her head and closing her eyes. "I don't want to do any of this with _you._"

His pride took the blow hard, and he felt real anger simmer in his chest. "I'm sorry, a'right! I know I was rough when takin' yer cherry years ago, and I've regretted the hurt since. I've tried ta make it up ta ya, but you still won't let me! How many times does a fella have ta say 'I'm sorry'?"

Her gaze was dark and angry when it swung back his way. "Like that would make up for how used you made me feel! It was my first time, Sea, and you didn't even try to give me any pleasure! You just took what you wanted, and then you left me there, by myself in the dark, to clean up the mess."

He had to sit on his hands now, knowing that if he didn't he would reach out and violate his earlier promise and touch her without her permission. "I didn't know what ta do," he admitted, feeling his face flush with embarrassment at having to admit his prior lack of skill. "I'd only done it once meself before ya. It's not somethin' yer perfect at right o' way, ya know? And ya went all stiff on me when I tried ta hold ya after. I figured ya didn't want me touchin' ya anymore and needed privacy, so I left. Ya think that was a good feelin' for _me_?" He growled now, angry at the continued slights he'd endured for two years for one night that had gone mistakenly wrong. "I wanted ta try again. I wanted ya fer me girl, but ya rejected me o'er and o'er. There's only so much a man can take, ya know, before he gets the hint."

Lavender scowled. "Yeah, what was that, a week before you moved into Parvati's bed?"

Seamus grit his teeth. "Ya made it clear that ya hated me. I tried ta ferget ya fast after that, like takin' off a bandage. It hurts less if ya do it quick and get on."

His partner sniffed. "Yeah, well, you succeeded. You forgot me _a lot_ after that – with just about any girl you could whore your way into bed with." She looked down at the collar of his shirt, her expression bitter. "Are we done yet with your card? I'd like to get off your lap now."

"No, I want me kiss," he growled. It would be a bad idea to take their first kiss in two years while angry, but he wasn't passing up this chance. Something in him wouldn't let him walk away without at least a taste... "I want ya ta snog me senseless, Lavender. I want yer tongue and lips o' mine, and I want it ta taste like ya really want me. And since this is _me_ reward, yer gonna give it ta me. Now."

She looked ready to smack him and walk out, but then she narrowed her eyes and leaned in, hovering over his lips. "I could always forfeit the game," she warned him. "I could walk out right now and call it quits. Then you couldn't force me to do this."

Seamus captured her gaze, desperate to hold onto her for even just a little while longer. "Then I won't command ya, but I'll ask it: will ya _please_ kiss me? Kiss me fer all yer worth and make me pay for hurtin' ya back then. I'll take yer hatred so long as I get ta taste ya again, even if it's ta be the last time."

Her eyes widened as he spoke, and fear bloomed in the indigo depths.

Nudging his chin a bit, he aligned their mouths better, dropping his lids to half-mast to stare at her with lustful need. "Kiss me," he whispered the plea. "Give us a second chance, sweet lass. Let me do it right this time."

Lavender seemed frozen with indecision for at least a good minute, and then she stared him dead in the eye. "No second chances. It'll just be a kiss. It means nothing." With that, she dropped her mouth onto his.

It was a heart-stealing, soul-searing kiss, filled with anger and lust, and it burned Seamus to the core. He groaned under his partner's rough handling, loving her enthusiasm, especially when she bit his bottom lip in retribution, then softened a bit, as if feeling a tad guilty for causing hurt. It was telling, this first kiss: Lavender was furious with him, _oh definitely_, but she also clearly wanted him. Knowing that was enough for him to want to stay on, too, to try to make good on his wish to turn this chance – this possible last chance for them – into a good memory for them both.

The open mouthed, wet kiss grew in intensity when he slipped his tongue between her lips and stroked hers with velvety gentleness. They both moaned in response, and the sound made him shiver with anticipation. No matter her protests, Lavender was on-board for this.

Seamus poured every ounce of skill he had into that snog, twining his tongue about hers, lapping at her lightly, teasingly, and seductively. His partner's hands traveled up to cup his jaw, then smoothed through his hair, gripping on tight as the kiss deepened, as the anger ebbed away to become something more profoundly stirring, genuine, and greedy.

A second after she moaned with pleasure, Lavender was off of him, having jumped to her feet, wobbling unsteadily as she tried to regain her balance on heels after having moved so fast. Her eyes were wide, her face was flooded with heat, and her breathing was decidedly fast. "It was just a kiss, and no big deal," she spoke with conviction.

Seamus thoroughly assessed her in a sweeping glance as he removed his hands from between the sofa's gaps. "Who're ya tryin' ta convince, angel?" he replied without fear of reprisal, getting to his feet and looming over her. He stepped forward and she stepped back. They continued the dance until she fell back into the cozy chair she had previously occupied. Trapping her effectively by putting both hands on the arms and leaning over her, he pressed his advantage. He smiled in counter to her scowl, knowing well the signs of true arousal in a woman and recognizing them in her just then. "'No big deal' woulda made ya unaffected, and right now, I think yer _verra_ affected. Just like me."

Turning her head again, she sniffed in mocking disdain. "It would have felt the same with anyone, so don't think you're special, Finnigan."

He crouched down at her knees, still careful not to touch her, conscientious of his earlier vow. "Ya don't snog Ron like that," he stated with arrogant self-assurance, having spoken with Weasley on occasion about his relationship with Lavender over the last few months. Living in the same dorm room with the guy had allowed Seamus the opportunity to keep up on the comings and goings of Miss Brown this past year. "Otherwise, it wouldna been casual a'tween ya two all these months. And that kiss, Lavender… there wasn't a thing casual about it, and ya know it, love."

Her back teeth were probably hurting her by now with all of the gritting and clenching under the skin of her jaw. "We're done with your card, right?"

Seamus could have pressed it; they hadn't spent the whole twenty-five minutes on his task. He decided, however, that all things would come to those with patience, and winning this battle of wills with Lavender – getting her to admit that she still felt _something_ for him, as he now was willing to admit such reciprocal feelings – was going to take many more rounds, a lot more fighting, and some crafty ways of apologizing to her. He was looking forward to all of it, and had no intention of pushing if it meant antagonizing her right out of the game all together.

"I'll concede ta me card being finished, since ya asked it o' me," he agreed. "Which means it's yer turn ta command me, sweet angel. So, what demands do ya have?"

She reached under her bum for the card she'd tossed onto the cushion earlier, and then read it aloud to him:

**DEED: Your partner must wash your feet and hands, and then suck your fingers and toes – all of them.**

Seamus' eyebrows hit the roof… as did his smile. This sounded like fun!

Lavender, on the other hand, was glowering. "Why me?" she growled and threw the card down in disgust. She slumped deep into the chair's cushioned back, and crossed her arms in annoyance.

Seamus chuckled, and with a mere thought, summoned a small basin of warm water and a wash rag. "Shall ya remove yer shoes fer me, or shall I do it fer ya?" he asked, beaming in happiness.

A snarl broke his partner's throat, making him snicker, and he leaned back as Lavender removed her shoes, roughly unbuttoning the straps and kicking them away.

Dipping the soft wash rag into the basin of water, Seamus wrung it out then brought it to Lavender's right hand first, then her left, washing each finger, the pads of each hand and her wrists as well, giving them a small massage in the doing. He concentrated on every stroke, making sure to give her proper attention, hoping to make up for all of the mistreatment she felt she'd suffered under him prior. When he'd finished, he patted her hands dry with a conjured towel.

He turned to her feet next with the same care, even dipping her lovely, purple-painted toes in the basin now, letting the warm water lap over her skin as he rubbed her in light circles. He massaged as he went, doing to her what he thought he'd want done to him. He'd never actually given a foot massage before to any girl, so this was a first. From the relaxing of her muscles and the lack of a protest from her lips, however, he took that to mean he was doing an adequate job of it. He then patted her feet dry with the same gentleness he'd shown her hands.

Lifting her right foot first, placing it on his left shoulder, he bent his head and began kissing her ankles, moving in slow, wet, deliberate action towards her toes. He licked her arch in a slow rasp, which earned him a small cry of distress from his lady. Against his thumb, he could feel her pulse speed up in the artery that ran down into her foot. The lust was stirring in her veins, but like the stubborn witch she was, she adamantly was trying to deny it. The thought made him smile.

Circling up the pad of her big toe, he wrapped his lips around it and brought it into his moist mouth, playfully running his tongue over it. As he pulled back with suction, he looked up into Lavender's face, caught her eye, and didn't look away.

His partner looked like a pixie in mating heat – dilated pupils, rapid breathing, crimson cheeks, lips parted with growing hunger. He licked her second toe, never pulling his gaze from hers, rolling her flesh around with his tongue, and pretending for the moment that he was doing this between her legs, to her tiny, little bead instead. With each toe, he worked her over physically as well as psychologically, hoping to crack through that emotional fence she'd put up between them.

When he'd run the gamut of the foot, he returned to her ankle, placed a kiss upon the sensitive part right under the bone, and guided her leg back down.

The fun wasn't over yet, though. He repeated the process with her left foot, paying extra attention to suckling and licking over spots that made her body shiver or her muscles jolt. She shivered when he tickled between her toes with his tongue, and when he nibbled just above her ankle joint.

When he'd finished, he lowered her foot and sat up on his knees, reaching for her right hand.

"Did ya enjoy that, me love?" he asked, nuzzling her limp hand with his nose and cheek. "I know _I _did. Ya taste wonderful."

Lavender didn't reply. She swallowed and looked away again instead, clearly trying to control her reactions.

Seamus broke right through that tight discipline of hers, however, when he drew her index finger into his mouth and suckled it slow. Her eyelids fluttered shut, she began shaking from head to toe, and the pulse in her wrist flew out of control under his fingertips. He tongued the skin between her fingers with skill.

"Are ya imaginin' where else I could be tonguin' ya, sweet angel?"

He sucked in her middle finger next, releasing it with slow, purposeful reluctance.

"How about on the skin o' that golden neck o' yers? Right over yer pulse?"

He then bathed her ring finger in his saliva.

"Flickin' your lobe and nippin' it with me teeth…"

Lapping at her pinky, he drew the seduction out, bringing his body – and her hand – right near her face, continuing to enjoy her flavour as he tried to entice her further.

"Would ya like me tongue ta lap at those beautiful breasts o' yers?"

He tickled her inside wrist with his tongue, mimicking the motions he hoped to make around her areola at some point during the game.

"I'd love ta take me time lickin' yer nipples 'til they were achin' from the attention."

As he spoke, he reached for her left hand and brought it to his mouth, allowing the right to fall back onto the chair arm. He repeated his lips' trailing, dampening quest all over again.

"Shall I tell ye that I've dreamed of lickin' that little hole in yer belly…"

_Suckle._

"Or inside yer thighs…"

_Suckle._

"Or behind yer knees…"

_Suckle._

"And especially between yer cunnie."

_Nibble, lick, suckle._

"I've wanted ta taste yer honey, love. Ta lap between those long legs o' yers until ya were moanin' fer more. Ta suck yer clit until yer spine arched wit' the pleasure."

He leaned mere inches from her mouth, drawing her index finger back into his mouth, running his expert tongue over it.

"I've wanted ta enter ya again, Lavender, slowly and wit' thoughts ta only yer desire. I've wanted ta bring ya gently, ta hear ya cry out fer me finally, ta watch yer face as ya let go and gave yerself ta me."

A soft chiming alerted them that their time was up, but Seamus wasn't quite finished yet. There was one more thing to say…

He cupped her cheek and fanned his fingers out over the soft, glowing skin, locking his eyes onto hers. "I wanted ta make ye me girl once, sweet angel. I know now that I never stopped wantin' that all this time. I want ya ta think about that during this game, and at the end, I want ya ta give me yer answer. Will ya be mine, or no?"

She opened her mouth, but he pressed a finger to her lips to silence her.

"At the end. Not before. Give me time ta court ya right."

With that, Seamus stood and tugged on Lavender's hand to help her up. Quickly, she removed her fingers from his grasp, and moved past him to collect her shoes. Without a word, she left the room, holding her shoes in one hand, her back ramrod straight. She acted as if she were pulling up the remnants of her dignity and pride, and cloaking herself in them for protection - attempting to keep him out at the same time.

Seamus wasn't disheartened by her lack of a warm response to his proposal, for in her eyes he'd seen her desire, and it had mirrored his. It was a good start.

Whistling a small jig, he took up his jacket and jumper, shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and left the doppelganger Gryffindor common room in place, wanting it to remain for the next action round as well.

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_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter?**

.

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Be There" by U2. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**You don't have to break your heart**__**  
**__**In two my love.**__**  
**__**You don't have to play a part.**__**  
**__**It's you I love.**__**  
**__**You don't have to hide from yourself.**__**  
**__**You don't have to be someone else again.**_

_**You don't have to rescue me.**__**  
**__**You don't have to watch me drown.**__**  
**__**You don't have to give to me.**__**  
**__**All I want is you.**_

_**Be there, my love.**__**  
**__**Be there, tonight.**__**  
**__**Be there, my love.**__**  
**__**Be there, tonight.**_

_**You don't have to dress yourself up,**__**  
**__**Or stay the same.**__**  
**__**You don't have to smile,**__**  
**__**If I say smile.**_

_**You don't have to be the best.**__**  
**__**You don't have to give me rest.**__**  
**__**All I want is all you have.**__**  
**__**Nothing else.**__**  
**__**Nothing.**_

_**Be there, my love.**__**  
**__**Just be there, my love.**_

_**If you want the whole of me,**__**  
**__**That's all you'll get.**__**  
**__**I'll sing this song,**__**  
**__**I'd give my health,**__**  
**__**Give it all.**__**  
**__**You don't have to...**_

_**Ah, she comes on by.**__**  
**__**She says, I need you, my love.**__**  
**__**Ah, she says, all I want is you.**_

_**You don't have to play your little game,**__**  
**__**If I fall apart.**__**  
**__**You don't have to work those strings,**__**  
**__**Or do those things.**__**  
**__**You don't play my part.**_

_**You don't have to hide from yourself.**__**  
**__**You don't have to be someone else.**__**  
**__**All I want is all you have.**__**  
**__**All I want is you.**_

_**Be there, my love.**__**  
**__**Be there, tonight.**__**  
**__**Be there, my love.**__**  
**__**Be there, tonight.**_


	9. Chapter 3: The 2nd Question

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**AngiesDreams **__recommended the song, __**"**_**The Power of Love**_**" by Huey Lewis & The News **__for everyone this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to everyone's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to__** AngiesDreams **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

**PLEASE REVIEW, FOLKS! What did you think of this chapter?**

* * *

_**CHAPTER THREE: THE 2nd QUESTION**_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland**_

_**Room of Requirement**_

_**Saturday, June 13, 1998 (8:30pm)**_

As the game required of all players, Draco sat on the end of the couch in the same spot he had vacated earlier, and tried not to be too obvious about staring at Granger, who sat next to a very pale, frowning She-Weasel. The two women were gripping hands tightly and neither had said a word since they'd come out of their private rooms a few minutes earlier. In fact, no one had spoken; it had been strangely silent between all of them, as if whatever had happened behind those six closed doors in the last hour had somehow changed them all.

Except for him. Nothing he'd done in the privacy of the room he'd occupied with his partner had left a lasting stain upon his conscience. In fact, he was looking forward to doing a lot more this round. Clearly, though, Hermione wasn't, as she wouldn't even look his direction. Maybe he'd pushed it too fast by moving in fast on the physical stuff?

"Does anyone need the loo?" Saint Potter finally spoke, his voice soft in the hushed room, taking the lead this round, as he and Draco had previously decided upon. When a silent chorus of shaking heads met that question, the Gryffindor captain nodded. "From what I understand, the action cards from last round have all been reshuffled magically into their correct deck now, and last round's question card has erased itself, having been completed." He looked to Slytherin's Team Captain for confirmation, and once he'd received it, he continued. "Then, Parkinson, it's your turn to draw a green card," the chirpy Gryffindor dictated.

Draco watched as, jarred from the moment's introspective thoughts, his female Housemate reached for the next _Interrogations _card and blanched, then read it aloud, fighting to keep her voice even, "If you had to participate in an orgy with anyone in this group tonight, who would you pick as your partners? Name 3-5 people."

Everyone focused on Daphne, who was immediately to Pansy's left. The woman adjusted her glasses as coolly as possible and looked around, pausing momentarily on Theo. She then reached for a _Forfeits_ card.

Her partner leapt to his feet. "What? You mean you wouldn't want me at least?"

Greengrass said nothing, merely looked at him as evenly as possible. "I believe the rules state rather specifically that I am not required to answer a question unless I wish to. I choose not to this round, with no reflection on anyone here."

"Yeah, and you can't interrogate her on her lack of response either, Nott," Potter added. "Those are the rules."

Draco regarded Theo as his face flushed red with anger. Apparently, whatever had happened between he and Daphne during the previous round had affected him enough to feel he now had some sort of rights over his partner. Greengrass was disabusing him of that notion right quick, however, returning his stare without flinching.

"Theo, sit," he cautioned his friend. "If Daph doesn't want to admit or deny anything in front of the group, she doesn't have to."

After a final moment of glaring, his best friend slumped back down onto the couch, still steaming. He turned his head away from the proceedings, looking off at the far wall, clearly trying to cool his head. The play moved on to Blaise.

He looked equally as shaken as Theo was, although his gaze was purposefully directed on the She-Weasel, who refused to look up at him. "You know my answer," he stated somewhat bitterly to the little redheaded woman across from him. He spoke to her alone, tuning out the rest of them, his face a mask of granite detachment barely holding in place, spilling unhappiness out at the corners as he fought to contain his emotions. "Even though I know you'd love to knock my block off right now, I'd still pick you as my first choice. I couldn't care less who the other people would be. Guy or girl, it doesn't matter. Everyone in this group is interesting enough, I suppose."

Draco wasn't really surprised by this revelation about his friend's sexual orientation. He'd always assumed Blaise to be the "take sex as you can find it" type. The man was so closed-mouthed about his partnerships however that it was impossible to have ever previously been able to say definitively one way or the other. Now it was out there for everyone to know finally that Blaise was bi-sexual. There were a few askance looks (especially from Gryffindor's side, and he noted that Theo shifted in a curiously uncomfortable fashion). The Weaslette, however, did not meet his gaze. She did not respond at all, in fact. She merely swallowed hard, looking positively miserable and ill.

There were an awkward few minutes after Blaise's pronouncement where no one spoke or dared breathe too loud, as if everyone could feel the palpable discomfort and pain electrifying the air around them, centering on the cyclone of emotions that was Blaise Zabini and Ginevra Weasley. Uncomfortable himself with the queer silence, Draco finally nudged Tracey, wanting her to take her turn next to move past the moment and get them back on track.

The woman jumped and then blushed. "Oh, um, Blaise has to take a _Deeds_ card, right, and then it's my turn?" Next to her, Zabini reached forward and took a red card from the stack. When he'd done that, Tracey cleared her throat behind a polite hand. "Right. Well… um…" She swallowed convulsively a few times. "I don't think I'd enjoy the experience at all of being with multiple partners, and I'm not very comfortable with the idea of naming any people to do such a thing I wouldn't like anyway, so does that mean I have to take a _Forfeits_ card?" She looked over at Potter, who glanced at him. They both nodded at the same time, in agreement over the ruling of this one.

"Sorry," Harry apologized sincerely to his partner. "You're choosing not to answer technically, so that means you take a blue card." Cheeks flushing, Tracey nodded, and reached for a _Forfeits _card.

Draco shrugged. "Those are the rules, Davis." He turned his attention to Hermione then, as it was his turn, and gave her the slickest smirk he could conjure, watching her face pale as she realized he planned to answer. "I'd pick Granger, Brown and Greengrass." He'd answered flippantly, making light of the matter and grinning like a cad, which he knew chuffed his partner off. She turned her nose up at him, annoyance flickering across her features.

Reaching for a _Deeds_ card, Draco chuckled under his breath. "Your turn, Finnegan."

Seamus laughed loudly and lustily, and it was a strange sound in the still-charged room. He leaned back into the couch and swung an arm up and over the back of the cushions. "Well, since it's me own card, I suppose I have ta answer." He turned a lascivious grin on Brown, who sat at his left. "I'm sure me partner would rather kick me arse than give me half a chance, but I'd want her. As fer the others…" He looked about the group, measuring up each woman. "I suppose I'd have ta say Hermione and Ginny."

Ginny sat back deeper into the sofa, grinned and rolled her eyes, but Granger looked up and over at the handsome Irish, blushing bright red, her mouth opened in shock, as if she was just cued into something she had never before given a passing notice to previously.

Draco restrained the growl that rose up in his chest by gritting his teeth. Of all the men at the game tonight, it was Finnegan he felt the most threatened by, if he had to be honest. The guy was rumored to have a huge dick that had never failed to satisfy. That he'd dare consider Granger… Cock-sucking bastard.

Lavender barked a cynical laugh. "Figures." She indicated her partner should take a red card from the stack. Before he'd sat back, she snatched up a blue card, holding it tightly to her chest. "I refuse to answer," she sulked indignantly. "There are too many big egos running around this room already."

Her partner laughed again, stretching his legs out in front of him, supremely confident that he'd known what Brown's answer would be, and liking her stubborn refusal to name him. She elbowed him hard enough to make him lose his breath and bend at the waist, clutching his abs for such an arrogant show.

_Good girl_, Draco sadistically smirked, feeling vindicated.

The Weaselbee was next. He cleared his throat, glanced at Pans out of the corner of his eye, and turned an interesting shade of red. "Pansy. No one else." He turned to the blonde at his side quickly. "No offense, Lav, but… well…"

Lavender shook her head and patted the guy's hand affectionately. "Friends, Ron. That's all it was for me, too."

The wizard nodded his head in agreement and acceptance, then his bashful gaze wandered back to his Slytherin partner's across the aisle from him and he cleared his throat. "Then… I'd only want Pansy."

Draco couldn't help it; he burst out laughing. He knew it was against the rules, but it was an uncontrollable reaction that needed a voice. "Oh, hell, Pans, you're good! In less than an hour, you brought home a puppy!"

Parkinson threw him a death glare. "Shut it, Drake," she warned, her eyes glittering with the promise of retribution for making a joke at her expense. He wiped the tears of hilarity from his eyes, and tried to compose himself, but fell into another round of wild, amused chuckling.

Across the way, Gryffindor's former Keeper had gone still with fury. "She's _fucking hot_, Malfoy," Weasley countered coldly, leaning forward in his direction for emphasis. "You're just too stupid to see it."

Abruptly, Draco's laughter shut off, much like a candle extinguished with a strong puff of breath, and he – like the others in the room - stared hard at the Weasel, considering the redhead carefully. The bloke was serious. _Really, truly serious._ Hell's bells, not an hour ago, he and Parkinson had practically been at each other's throats…

Enlightenment widened his eyes, and Draco quickly changed his focus to Pans. His ex- was staring at her game partner in shock, her dark bistre eyes wide with disbelief. There was even the sparkle of some unnamed emotion glimmering in those shimmering orbs, but it was gone by the next blink, and she looked down at her hands, uncharacteristically shy.

_Oh, hell_, he thought, with some small measure of concern. "Tell me you're kidding," he glanced between the two sides, his eyes sliding over his ex-girlfriend and the one guy in the world he couldn't stand more than Potter.

"Shut it or else," Weasley growled, looking ready to leap up and throttle him at any moment.

"Wanking bloody hell," Malfoy grumbled and waved the whole situation off. He had enough to think about with Granger, whose turn it was next to answer. "Whatever. Rules say you can't answer that way. Finnegan's card was specific. You have to pick three to five people from the group. So either answer completely, or take a _Forfeit_."

The redhead looked to his friend and Captain, but Potter simply hung his head and nodded in concurrence. "Malfoy's right. The rules are specific. Sorry, Ron."

The Weaselbee looked torn and gazed across the space at Parkinson again, whose eyes were still on her lap. Without a thought, he reached for another blue card. Obviously having caught the motion from her peripheral vision, Pansy's head jerked up in astonishment, and then a small smile tugged at her lips and relief was evident in her eyes.

_Seriously, whatever_, Draco resigned himself, turning his attention on the one person whose answer did matter to him.

Hermione didn't even look at him as she reached for a _Forfeits_ card, saying nothing.

Why was he not surprised? Really, he could have bet the odds on that one and come up the winner. Let down by her lack of courage, Draco sat back into the couch and contemplated his partner with intense scrutiny, silently willing her to look up so he could aim that disappointment directly into her brain.

The She-Weasel copied her best girl friend exactly. All the while, the two ladies maintained a death lock on each other's hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blaise smirk and look to the side, as if the response from his partner hadn't been at all unexpected.

Prince Potter was talking then, and Malfoy shook himself out of his contemplation to tune in to the nonsense. "I'm monogamous. That's not my kind of thing, and just speaking hypothetically about it isn't comfortable for me either, so I'll just take a _Forfeit_." Gryffindor's Captain snatched up a blue card as game play passed quickly onto Theo.

Draco's other best friend crossed his arms over his chest and frowned, clearly considering the wisdom of answering or not. With a growl, he lunged forward and took a red card, then tapped it against his knee. "I'd fuck any of the girls here, but if I had to pick, top three choices would be Greengrass, Granger, and Davis." He stared at Daphne pointedly as he replied, as if in challenge. For her part, the Slytherin Ice Queen was silent and seemingly unaffected, adjusting her glasses again across the bridge of her nose and staring off at the far wall with deliberate insouciance. This only seemed to piss off Theo more, Draco noted; his friend's free hand actually clenched into a fist.

Damn, what had happened between Nott and Greengrass in that private room to make Theo react so aggressively? He'd never known his friend to be so affected by a woman.

But then, Draco could relate - although his obsession had been on-going for a rather long time, and was therefore more deeply seated. He turned to his own partner and smirked nastily at her. "Aren't you popular with the boys," he bit, staring hard at Hermione, his own jealousy manifesting irrationally. He knew he was behaving immaturely, but the fact that every guy there wanted to fuck his girl made Draco terribly bitter (for he was quite sure that the Weasel and Potty would have listed Granger, too, had either of them had the _cojones_ to do so).

Granger stared at him as if he were nutters.

"No discussion," Potter reminded him mockingly and Draco forced himself to turn aside his need to lash out. It wasn't, after all, really Hermione's fault that she was desirable enough to put on a list of women a bloke would most like to fuck. Slytherin's balls, _he_ even wanted her, and he'd been her antagonist for years. "Parkinson, back to you," Scar-Head indicated.

Pansy practically glowed neon red, opened her mouth, shut it, then hung her face in her hands and muffled her reply. "I'd pick Weasley. No one else." She reached for a _Forfeits_ card, not able to answer the question correctly either.

"No shite?" her partner breathed a shaky sigh of relief. "Well, that's… good."

Draco looked between the two former enemies-slash-apparently new best bed buddies and, mentally shaking his head, officially declared his brain fried.

"Time to turn your cards over," Potter announced.

Draco flipped his placard and read it carefully, then uncrossed his legs and flowed up to his feet. "Time," he demanded, tapping the _Deeds_ card against his thigh.

"Its 8:40," the dark haired wizard replied, replacing his fob watch in his pocket, reaching for those invisible glasses of his again and sighing, dropping his hand back to his side when he realized the futility of his nervous tick.

"All right, you've got until 9:30," he declared, turned on his heel and made for the same room as last time, knowing Granger would have no choice but to follow him… and now, she had a punishment coming to her.

Behind him, Potter's voice rang out. "Pregnancy charms, ladies, if you please."

Draco snorted, re-reading his card as he reached for the knob and pulled his door open. Maybe they'd have better use for such a spell with Granger's _Forfeit_, because his action round certainly wouldn't call for its use. Talk about rotten luck.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**_

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "The Power of Love" by Huey Lewis & The News. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**The power of love is a curious thing…**_  
_**Makes one man weep.**_  
_**Makes another man sing.**_  
_**Changes a hawk to a little white dove.**_  
_**More than a feeling –**_  
_**That's the power of love!**_

_**Tougher than diamonds,**_  
_**Rich like cream.**_  
_**Stronger and harder than a bad girl's dream.**_  
_**Make a "bad one" good,**_  
_**Make a "wrong one" right.**_  
_**Power of love will keep you home at night.**_

_**You don't need money,**_  
_**Don't take fame.**_  
_**Don't need no credit card to ride this train.**_  
_**It's strong and it's sudden.**_  
_**It can be cruel sometimes,**_  
_**but it might just save your life.**_  
_**That's the power of love.**_  
_**That's the power of love.**_

_**First time you feel it,**_  
_**it might make you sad.**_  
_**Next time you feel it,**_  
_**it might make you mad.**_  
_**But you'll be glad baby when you've found…**_  
_**that's the power makes the world go 'round!**_

_**And it don't take money,**_  
_**Don't take fame.**_  
_**Don't need no credit card to ride this train.**_  
_**It's strong and it's sudden.**_  
_**It can be cruel sometimes,**_  
_**but it might just save your life.**_

_**They say that, "all in love is fair!"**_  
_**Yeah, but you don't care.**_  
_**But you know what to do**_  
_**when it gets hold of you…**_  
_**and with a little help from above,**_  
_**you'll feel the power of love!**_  
_**You'll feel the power of love.**_  
_**Can you feel it?**_

_**And it don't take money.**_  
_**Don't take fame.**_  
_**Don't need no credit card to ride this train.**_  
_**Tougher than diamonds,**_  
_**and stronger than steel.**_  
_**You won't feel nothin' till you feel…**_  
_**You feel the power?**_  
_**Just the power of love.**_  
_**That's the power!**_  
_**That's the power of love.**_

_**You feel the power of love...**_  
_**You feel the power of love…**_  
_**Feel the power of love!**_


	10. Chapter 3A: Seamus & Lavender

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User "__**Daisykins**__" recommended the song, "__**Give and Take" by Tyler Collins **__for Lavender & Seamus this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Lavender's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**DAISYKINS**__ - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK to: rzzmg at yahoo dot com.**

**PLEASE REVIEW! **

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE (#1): Seamus & Lavender**

Back in their own private version of the Gryffindor common room, Lavender tossed her bum down in the same cozy chair she'd previously occupied during the last two action rounds, crossing her legs. She positively glared at Seamus as he entered behind her and quietly shut the door.

Swaggering over to the couch, he carefully removed his woolen jacket and jumper, laying them across the back of the sofa, and then literally jumped into the same catty-corner as before, lounging back as if the world was his oyster and he had no cares. He unbuttoned his white, cotton dress shirt at the collar, and did the same to his shirt cuffs, rolling them up to mid-forearm.

They stared at each other the whole time in silence, she trying hard not to notice his predatory inspection of her person. When he'd made himself quite comfortable, he lifted his card and read it aloud to her:

_**DEED: Caress every inch of your partner's naked body on the outside.**_

Lavender felt the blood drain from her face. "You have _got _to be joking!"

That sexy smile of his put in an appearance, gliding up his cheek. "'Fraid not, sweet angel. Shall we get ta it then?"

She grit her teeth, letting her fingernails roll-tap over the arms of the chair. "I'd rather not."

Her partner frowned, losing his good humour. "Yer mad about how I answered the question, aren't ya?"

She hated to admit it, but the fact that Seamus had so casually tossed out the idea that he wouldn't mind getting it on with two other women, one of whom was her good friend, had stung. Lavender had _always_ felt she'd placed second when compared to Hermione, whether it be in Ron's arms or in their various classes. To have Pansy included in the mix... she couldn't even _begin_ to describe how that had galled her. The woman was a _Slytherin_, for Merlin's sake!

Of course, it hadn't helped that not a minute later, Ron had said he'd preferred Pansy, too. Her self-esteem had taken a big hit then.

Was she going to let Seamus know any of this, though? Abso-_bloody_-lutely not. He had too big an ego as it was.

"Let's just get this over with. It's not like you haven't already had me naked before."

Quelling her terror, tamping it down deep into her gut – she _was_ a Gryffindor, after all – Lavender stood up and reached behind her neck, pulling the string tie to the halter of the dress, letting it fall. Peeling the dress away with a wiggle here and there, it drifted to the floor in a satiny heap.

Seamus sucked in his breath as he took in her lingerie. "Bloody hell!" he swore in amazement, and wolf-whistled. "Ya went and grew up on me, love. And yer knickers are quite fetchin', ya know." He got to his feet in a flash and approached.

Teetering on her heels as she took a step away, Lavender nearly fell back. Sea caught her with an unexpected swiftness, however, gathered her into his arms and effortlessly held her up against his solid chest. His arms were steel bands around her, pressing her into his warm curves. They were nose to nose when she looked up.

Godric, he was gorgeous, wasn't he?

An electric tingle shot up her spine and into the back of her head, causing her knickers to go instantly wet, just as it had last round when he'd touched her. She might have said it was some sort of magic she'd felt that caused the reaction, but he wasn't holding his wand.

"Easy, sweet angel," he murmured in a gentle tone. "No need ta be rushin' and hurtin' yerself. Let me enjoy ya like this a bit, yeah?"

Lavender's inner alarms blared in warning. From the end of third year, when she'd first developed a fancy for Sea, he'd been her greatest temptation, with his smooth moves, his alluring woodsy scent, and those full, kissable lips and intense, green eyes. And that brogue… _gods_, that lilt, with the rolled _r_'s, and the way he emphasized the 'La' part of her name! It made her shiver inside and out. Her ex-boyfriend had a way of enchanting her with a look or a simple phrase - which is why she'd made such a grave error in calculation two years ago and given up her virginity to him.

She'd promised herself after that fiasco that never again would she be made a fool of by putting her feelings so easily on the line. She'd cried too many tears, for too many months to count, and didn't intend upon repeating such a mistake. That vow was one she had lived by since, as she absolutely refused to become a victim to any man's clever wit or sultry looks a second time. In order to assure that happened, there was no such thing as 'making love' in bed – it was 'just sex' now.

That meant that Mister Seamus Finnigan, who had made the claim tonight that he was offering her something deeper than a simple physical relationship, was strictly off-limits. Besides, she didn't believe his offer to be true, anyway. It was most likely that he was simply trying to alleviate his guilt by earning her forgiveness. Once she gave it, he'd probably skip off to the next girl.

Narrowing her eyes, she threw him her most disapproving frown. "The card says nothing about either one of us enjoying this. I just have to do it."

The teasing glint left Seamus' eye and his countenance became very serious. "Lavender, I want this ta be good for the both o' us. Don't make me touch ya without care, Angel. It would… hurt me."

A sharp pang stabbed Lavender's chest. Well, that had seemed totally sincere…

_No, he's a silver-tongued liar!_, she sharply reminded herself, shaking off her momentary doubts. She knew better than anyone that this wizard talked a pretty speech to get a witch into his bed. The rumours from the other females around school only confirmed it; he'd turned dumping a girl into an art form. Frankly, Lavender didn't trust Sea any further than she could throw him.

"You did it before, so why should you care now about a repeat?"

The frustration flashed through his eyes, making him stern, almost scary. "I told ya why already! Merlin's pecker, woman, don't ya listen? I care about ya, a'right?"

"Pretty words, but just that," she threw back, her heart fluttering behind the cage of her ribs in anxiety over this confrontation. "But then, you're known for them, Sea. Every girl you've shagged says the same thing: you're a regular Lothario blessed with Cassanova's mouth."

He closed his eyes and sighed, obviously trying to rein in his temper. "Lavender…"

"Save it," she interrupted, pulling herself out of his embrace, reaching for her heels to get the bloody things off her feet so she'd stop tripping. "Your history speaks for itself, Finnigan, and I don't believe you." She kicked her shoes across the room, and then shakingly began removing her heart bracelet. "So, let's just get this over with already."

_I will not cry, I will not cry, I WILL NOT CRY,_ she repeated the litany to get rid of the unexpected wavering tears in her eyes.

Why in all the levels of Hell was she this distressed? She'd promised her heart that she would never allow a man to upset her like this again; would never to let a man tip her whole world upside down and turn it inside out a second time…

…_and why was this fucking clasp not coming off?_

Gentle hands intervened, pushing her shaking fingers to the side and calmly removing the bracelet from her wrist, placing it down in the center of the nearby chair's cushion. "Slow 'n easy, sweet lass," Seamus coaxed, stepping back into her sphere, pressing in too close.

Wait, didn't he hear what she'd just said? Didn't he understand that she didn't want him like that ever again?

Those strong fingers of his slid over her arms and up to her shoulders, gently slipping her bra straps down, softly caressing the skin in passing.

Godric, he was stripping her. She should stop him!

No, he was only doing what his card allowed. If she stopped him, it would be her forfeit, and that was something her pride wouldn't let her do. She wouldn't be chased out of this game! She wasn't some little, naïve girl anymore. Their experience two years before had irrevocably changed her. Now she would show Seamus Finnigan that she could endure whatever he could dish out like the grown, mature woman she'd become!

Heart skipping madly, threatening to crawl up her throat, Lavender fought to regain control of her rapid pulse, to stop her body from trembling, and to calm her breathing. That odd, warm sparking tingle continued up and down the length of her spine, though, making it hard for her to ignore. Godric, was she that desperate for his touch, or was their chemistry just that bloody good?

Seamus slowly circled behind her, giving her a bit of space… but was too little a gentleman to stop, apparently. When he began unhooking the clasp to her bra, her inhalations sped up again. "Calm, me love," he coaxed in a soft murmur. "I won't hurt ya."

"Liar," she whispered, unable to match the strength of the echoing shout in her head.

His touch was tender, unhurried, and when the tension of her bra eased up, his warm hands smoothed the lingerie away, pulling it from her arms and dropping it to the floor. He leaned his head over her shoulder and looked down, his hands coming to rest on her waist. He melded his body to hers. "Yer beautiful," he whispered, and began tracing circles over her skin with his fingertips, gliding them across her abdomen. "Tell me, love, can we combine our cards, do ya think?"

Against her better judgment, Lavender nodded. Perhaps if they did their actions together it would go faster? She recalled her card's requirements and recited them back verbatim for him:

_**FORFEIT: Your partner gets to use a feather on you in any way they wish.**_

Seamus hummed in approval and held his hand out before her. Into it appeared a rounded wooden knot, at the top of which was bound a grouping of cockerel feathers. He gripped it between his fingers and brought it towards her without pause. The pulsing organ in Lavender's chest tried to leap out between her ribs.

_No! Get control of yourself!_ She adamantly refused to let what he was about to do to her affect her. She'd grit her teeth and endure it, but she would not enjoy it!

Oh-so-gently, her partner stroked the feathers over her throat. "I'll only touch ya this way, angel," he pledged, running the extremely soft plumes over her neck, up and down, back and forth from one shoulder to the other. "And ya don't have ta get any more undressed unless ya want ta. I won't force it."

"But the cards say-" she began, but he cut her off, stroking the feathers over her lips.

"Sod all the cards," he denounced, moving the fetish toy over her cheeks and jaw. "It's me turn, and I get ta interpret the bloody things as I want."

As the wispy strands of the feather edges moved past the bridge of her nose to her forehead and back down, Lavender had no choice but to close her eyes. Trying to hold absolutely still through this wasn't going to be an option, as her body was shivering from the pleasurable sensations as the feather ran over her sensitive pulse in her neck again. Anticipation quickened her breath.

Seamus' lips were right on top of the shell of her ear when he groaned in longing, but instead of trailing the feathers down her breasts, as she'd expected, he teased them over the flesh of her right arm, bringing goose bumps to the surface.

Lavender kept her eyes closed out of fear and embarrassment now, and bit her bottom lip when the tickling centered on the inside bend of her elbow and over the veins in her wrist, for that feeling did more than just delight – it set off a rioting of butterflies in her stomach, making her belly clench. A gasped huff escaped her mouth despite her will.

As her fingers received a light stroking, the brush moved across her abdomen in a zigzag pattern from just under her breast to her lower left hip bone and back, before centering on her bellybutton. She was not normally a ticklish person, but that light grazing made her burst into helpless giggles. Trying to staunch the eruption was impossible as well, because Seamus didn't let up until she pushed his wrist away.

"No, no, lass, ya canna prevent me from touchin' ya how I want," he kidded, stroking the feathers down the length of her spinal column. "This is me reward, after all."

_His reward_, Lavender instantly sobered, opening her eyes once more, the harsh reality of their situation coming down on her once again. _That's right. That's all this is about – winning me over so he can get my forgiveness and appease his guilt._

Stiffening up again, she stood stock still. "I apologize for interrupting. You can continue. I won't move again."

Finnigan sighed and she could hear the frustration. There was an awkward pause, and then she was being tugged to the sofa, being forced to straddle him once more. This time, however, her breasts were thrust into his face. She backed off as far as he would allow – which was only to put a little space between them. Her ire shot through the roof.

"You can't touch me like this! It's a foul!"

"I'm beggin' ta differ," he countered with a growl. "I need good access ta ya front, since that's where I'm wantin' ta touch ya next. Sittin' here like this gives me what I need ta fulfill the cards." He jerked his knees out, forcing her thighs wider, and leaned forward, leering at her. "Yer gonna like this part, I'm thinking. Now, don't move, like ya promised."

With deft hands and one rather determined feather, Seamus managed to transform her irritation into instant desire, as he trailed the stimulating ends of his toy over her right breast, circling her nipple with it. More electric sparks shot along her spinal column, seeming to centre in the very sensitive spots at the tip of her tail bone and at the nape of her neck. Everything inside her clenched, making her literally quake, and a startled gasp escape her lips. It took a supreme effort of will not to clutch at his arms for support, instead forcing her hands into clenched fists at her sides.

"Ah, ya see, angel," Seamus enticed, continuing his lazy sweep of her tiny rosy-beige buds. "Yer body isn't as cold as ya'd have me believe." He flicked the wispy feathers under the curve of her breast, following it around to the top and over to her left nipple, where he repeated a languid figure eight pattern across her skin.

"Yer tiny nips are perfect for suckin', me lass. I'd love ta run me tongue o'er this one here first," her former boyfriend indicated the breast on the left, tickling it with the feathers. The hot air from his sultry, thickly-accented speaking voice lightly danced over her skin at the same time, adding to the stimulation. "I'd bathe ya in me wet, warm mouth, lappin' across yer nipple, sucklin' and leavin' behind a love bite ta mark ya as mine."

He tilted his head to the other side, making sure his mouth hovered very close to its intended target. He exhaled and cool air instead caressed her skin, making Lavender choke back a whimper and resist the urge to squirm. "This one here, I'd clamp me teeth around and pull." He pressed his torture device directly against that nipple and slowly rotated it. "Gentle like, ya know? I'd let go right when ya were on the brink a'tween pleasure an' pain, then do it again and again."

Seamus continued his languid sweep around each breast, over and over again, turning his head to supposedly 'inspect' his work, all the while changing the temperature of the air around them by physically exhaling through his open mouth, or pretending to blow air out. By the time he moved the feather toy down her abdomen again, Lavender teetered on the brink of insanity.

And still he wasn't done with her.

The velvety smooth titillation continued its downward trek to just over her knickers, tracing the edges from one hip to the other, and around the curves of both thighs. The sensitive flesh there quivered in response, tensed up, and now she had to place her hands on her thighs to keep herself from jumping up off his lap.

"Ah, such soft lookin' skin ya have, me love," her partner murmured. "I gotta touch ya again." He put the toy down at his side on the cushions, and then blew on his hands and rubbed them together to warm them up. Lavender went as stiff as possible, steeling her resolution and dedication to her previously made vow, her fingers twitching and digging into the area just above her knees.

Tender, determined fingers splayed across her ribs and roamed slowly upwards, cupping her breasts and pushing in a smooth rolling motion. Lavender lurched and bit her tongue.

"Godric's rod!" Seamus breathed in awe, letting his fingertips stroke her nipples back into hard, little points. "What a fool I been, missin' this beauty."

He tweaked each of the tiny buds between his index fingers and thumbs, and that's what sent Lavender plummeting to her doom. She cried out and grabbed at his biceps, arching into him. With her face pressed to his neck, and her breathing ragged, she drew in the scent of Seamus once more, drowning in his musky fragrance, letting it roll over her, just as she had when she'd kissed him not an hour before.

"I wanna kiss 'em, sweet angel," her seducer whispered his wish against her ear. His fingers continued to work their magic on her overly-sensitive breasts. "Will ya let me?"

_Stop fighting it, _a naughty voice in the back of her head coaxed. _Give in._

Her walls battered down by his physical assault of her senses, Lavender was helpless to do anything but nod in surrender.

His mouth closed over her left breast, and just as he promised, he took it into the moist cavern of his mouth, and licked and flicked gently with his tongue, soaking her in his saliva. Her hands moved into Seamus' hair and grabbed on, as she pressed into him more firmly, a low, desperate moan leaving her throat. Deep in her womb, she felt the fire of need burning, and between her legs, warm fluid trickled from her opening, wetting the fabric of her knickers.

Tilting her hips forward, she tightened her buttocks, and Seamus' hands roamed down to cup her backside in response, pulling her body in tight against his. As soon as she came in contact with his very hard erection, he began a hard sucking of her tiny bead, leaving behind what she knew would be that love bite he promised. Driven by a lusty greed, she ground her pelvis against his covered cock and cried out in pleasure.

When he was satisfied with his attentions to her one breast, Seamus turned his mouth towards the other, and again, as he had described, he took her bud expertly between his teeth and clamped down, tugging it away from her chest with slow, deliberate pressure. Digging her nails into his skull, Lavender hissed and arched more vigorously into her former lover's embrace. "Oh, Merlin!" she panted, as his hands began kneading her arse, pulling her over his solid length, humping to a slow, insistent rhythm. His fingers slid the edges of her knickers up and over until they met in the crack of her bum, and then he glided over the exposed flesh, rubbing it, urging her to continue pumping over him on her own. All the while, his teeth never stopped tugging and releasing her nipple.

"More," she whimpered, ashamed by how easily he'd enslaved her to the need for him that had never quite gone away over time, no matter her contrary claims. Godric, help her, but she wanted Seamus – always had. He was her one weakness…

Never breaking contact with her breast, her lover guided her back onto the couch. Hovering over her, he continued to place wet, warm kisses between her tits, even as he shifted to find a comfortable position kneeling between her legs. He didn't mount her as she'd expected. Instead, he pulled the edges of her knickers up in the front, letting them ride her slit, tugging them with gentle insistence so they stroked up and then down, rasping against her clit.

Shite, that felt good!

Spanning his fingers over her mound next, he teased her small patch of well-trimmed curls, moaning as he found them dampened by her musky arousal. Pushing the heel of his palm up, he caused the panties to continue to ride her clit. Rocking against her this way, he easily overwhelmed Lavender's will as the onslaught of such lovely feelings shoved aside all logical protest.

Deep inside her core, electricity began arcing. It worked its way up her spine and simultaneously traveled down her hipbones, centering under Seamus' touch. "Oooh, _yes_," she hissed, her pelvis swaying forward to meet the thrust of his hand, her fingers running through his hair and pulling him into her in an unconscious gesture of longing. "Don't stop," she begged in a heated whisper, her knees bending to cradle against his outer thighs, rubbing against his crisp woolen slacks. "Feels _so_ good."

His tongue and mouth continued to love her as thoroughly as promised, even as his fingers gently scraped through her pubic hair at the same time as increasing his palm's tempo. Scorching fire shot through her engorged clit, sending sparks rioting along both the outside and inside of her pussy lips. She soaked the thin strip of fabric that rested in her seam, scenting the air between them with her body's natural musk. Her lover indulged Lavender's utmost gratification, utilizing his honed skills to bring her to the brink in moments.

By cherishing her body as he was - as he'd previously neglected to do years ago - the fortified wall of Lavender's anger began to erode. Perhaps she could let this happen between them again. Perhaps she might be able to trust him. Perhaps…

A sheen of perspiration dotted her upper lip as she panted, reaching… reaching…

Lifting his head, Seamus placed his lips next to her ear, breathing hot air down the curve of her neck at the same time as pushing up with his palm again, making her shudder. "Let go, me love," he gently bid. "Come."

Like magic, his words freed her, and Lavender tumbled over the edge of bliss with a wild, lusty cry. Her back arched off the cushions, and behind her tightly shut eyelids, detonations of colour burst in a parade of light. She floated high on the wave of pleasurable sensations for several long seconds before slowly coming back down to earth.

"Lavender," her wizard purred against her throat as she rode out the aftershocks and slid into the warm glow. "Yer so lovely, me lass. How I wished I'd been able to bring ya back then like this."

His words… they wounded without intention. Why couldn't he have said these things to her back when she'd given him her virginity? If only he had, things might have been different between them. They were such small words, but they were _so very important_.

Her tears came, as a hot rush of mortification overcame her, adding to her vulnerability. She burst into sobs, trying to push Seamus away, afraid of her weakness, but this time, he wouldn't let her go. Wrapping those powerful arms about her, he pulled her up against him as he knelt back on his haunches, and rested her face into the cradle of his neck. "I'm so, _so _sorry, love," he murmured, gently rocking her. "I wish I'd had this knowledge in me head back then. I'd have made yer first time so special. I'd have loved ya all night, and never let ya go."

Her icy resolve cracked, splintered, shattered as she threw her arms about his neck and buried her nose against his throat. "Oh, Sea!"

Her lover held her tight to him, letting her anger and sorrow run its course, and bathe his shirt in her tears. When it passed over her at long last, she lay like a limp ragdoll in his strong, comforting embrace. He finally let her go only when the chimes rang out to tell them that their time together was nearing its end.

Helping her to her feet, he redressed her with tenderness, fitting her breasts away inside the cups of her bra – not sexual now, but sensual, caring. When the tie on the back of her halter was redone, and he'd loaned her his handkerchief to wipe away her tears, he gave her a final look-over, stroking her cheek with one finger.

"Do ya want me ta forfeit the game, so I canna force ya ta do anything more?" he asked. "I won't hurt ya again, Lavender."

Her heart gave a lurch.

This was it, then – the decision that would affect both of their lives. If she said 'yes,' he would walk away and set her free. If she said 'no'…

"Kiss me," she breathed, leaning up on tiptoe, wrapping her arms about his neck, wanting to know what his mouth would tell her about his sincerity.

Seamus sighed in resignation, taking her request as a sign of her rejection, and yet, he did not let that stop him from sweeping down and gathering her into his arms again, slanting his mouth over hers in hungry possession. Their tongues twined, pulled apart, their lips following the rhythm as if it were the most natural of fits in the universe.

This was meant to be. She realized it then – felt it in the marrow of her bones. Some small voice inside her head told her to follow this path of second chances that the game had provided to see where it would lead. Perhaps it had been fate that they'd both agreed to play tonight, after all.

Lavender sighed with contentment as he moved away. She finally had her answer. The wall she'd protected herself behind for so long began to crumble, and the ice of her cold anger to melt. "I want to see where this leads us," she told him. "So, no, don't quit."

His spring-green eyes glimmered with the light of new life and hope. Taking her back into his arms, he pulled them in good and tight. "I meant it when I said I wanted ya fer me girl, Angel, so I'm gonna do everything I can ta win yer heart back."

Blushing to the roots of her hair – _Merlin, please don't let this be a mistake!_ – she gave him a quick peck on the lips. "We should go. Time's almost up."

Seamus nodded and taking her hand, he led her from the room. He didn't let her go, even after he'd sat back down on the main area's couch at her side. The feeling of him holding onto her was much more comfortable than she'd anticipated. In fact, it felt warm and good. It felt… right.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Please review!**

**.**

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Give and Take" by Tyler Collins. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**So many nights, I kept wondering why**_  
_**We could never see eye to eye.**_  
_**We never gave in**_  
_**To love deep within.**_  
_**Why couldn't we ever compromise?**_

_**I must admit that I've been selfish,**_  
_**Only thinking 'bout myself.**_  
_**But I'm willing and able to try love again,**_  
_**Cause through the fire, I've learned my lesson.**_

_**That love's a game of give and take,**_  
_**There's no flowers when there's no rain.**_  
_**It's love again.**_  
_**I'm ready for the pain.**_

_**Time's passed away,**_  
_**As we foolishly play**_  
_**Silly game with our hearts and minds.**_  
_**It's time for a change,**_  
_**If we still feel the same,**_  
_**Let's start with the past far behind.**_

_**Yes, I know we had some trouble,**_  
_**And only time will mend our hearts.**_  
_**But I'm willing and able**_  
_**To try love again.**_  
_**This time we'll make it.**_  
_**I know we can win!**_

_**That love's a game of give and take,**_  
_**There's no flowers when there's no rain.**_  
_**It's love again.**_  
_**I'm ready for the pain.**_

_**Love's a game of give and take,**_  
_**There's no flowers when there's no rain.**_  
_**It's love again.**_  
_**I'm ready for your love.**_


	11. Chapter 3B: Ron & Pansy

**__****CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **_User_**__**** "CAREYLYN" **_recommended the song, **"I'm A Slave 4 U" by Britney Spears **for Pansy & Ron this go around. It perfectly reflects Pansy's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to CAREYLYN - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**AUTHOR'S ASIDE:** Don't forget to send me your music selections, fanart or fan manip-art for this couple! I'd love to know your vision for them for the future!

**

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**

**CHAPTER THREE (#2): Ron & Pansy**

As soon as Pansy entered their private room and Weasley shut the door, she turned on a sickle and faced him, holding her card up. She read it aloud:

_**FORFEIT: Do a seductive strip tease down to your knickers for your partner**__**.**_

Ron grinned ridiculously, and read his card:

_**FORFEIT: **__**You have to go down on your partner and make them come. Good luck!**_

They stood there looking at each other for a good minute, before she and her ginger-haired partner simultaneously tossed their cards aside, and Ron stalked her towards the round bed, where she backed up and unceremoniously fell into the soft, white mattress. He unbuttoned his jacket and tossed it against the pillows near the headboard, then leaned over her, placing his palms on either side of her head and lowered his mouth, hovering above hers, staring her in the eye hotly. "I'm going to snog you senseless before we go any further, Parkinson," he told her rather dominantly. "Unless you object, that is?"

She shook her head fervently, her mouth watering at the idea of tasting his moist, pink tongue again. "Kiss me hard, Weasley, and make it count."

"Yes, m'am," he approved and dropped his lips to hers without further ado.

Like before, Pansy's stomach erupted with fluttering pixies, her senses reeled, and she moaned eagerly, letting him claim her again. How was it that this boy – this _man _- made her panting hot and wet with the simplest touch of his fiery mouth and tongue? She clung to him, wrapped her legs about his waist and held on as he used those bulging muscles of his to push them into the middle of the bed, riding her dress up in the process. They kissed and kissed for a bit, enjoying each other's flavors, before finally having to come up for some air.

Lying fully atop her now, wedged between her legs, supporting his weight on his elbows, Ron stared down at her. His fingers, she noted, were absently playing with her hair, slipping through the straight, dark, short strands. "Parkinson, I meant what I said out there - you're so _fucking hot_ you burn me inside and out," he admitted in between breaths, aqua eyes simmering with lust again for her. "I'm so hard for you it hurts."

Pansy's womb did a little jig and her vanity took a euphoric trip down Jubilation Lane. No man had ever spoken to her, or had looked at her as Ronald Weasley was doing now. For the first time in her life, she felt desirable and beautiful and worthy – three things she had never, in the entirety of her life, ever believed of herself deep down inside. It made her want to give back to him; to make this wizard feel as good as he was making her feel just then.

"Do you want your strip tease now?" she asked, eager to watch him lose all control again.

Ron nodded enthusiastically. "Then, I'm going to eat you out, like my card wants. I'm going to make you come all over my face, baby," he promised with a wicked, delicious smirk that took her breath away.

It was heady, this ability to make a man look at her like that. All of her 'grown-up' life, Pansy had been at the whim of the opposite gender. She had never learned to assert herself properly two years ago, when she'd lost her innocence to the first love of her young life, Draco Malfoy. He'd taken her virginity and her heart and taught her the folly of giving such things to a man who didn't have reciprocal feelings. Oh, no, he hadn't been cruel; he just hadn't shared the same depth of feelings, and that had hurt. Since then, she'd searched in the beds of a few other men and even one girl for the one who would look at her with wild abandon, who would desire her before his or her own nefarious ends. It seemed she'd been looking in the completely wrong House all along.

"Then let me up so I can give you your reward," she murmured against his lips, licking them like a cat with cream.

Weasley groaned and reluctantly pulled away, rolling off of her.

As she regained her feet, Pansy turned her head to look over her shoulder, noted Ron was still lounging on his side, propping his head on his hand as he watched her, that black, silken shirt clinging to his muscled frame, those tight, black trousers showing off his toned legs (and the bulge already beginning in his pants). His booted feet hung off the end of the bed casually as he awaited her pleasure, and in that second, she thought him truly, desperately handsome. Why hadn't she noticed before?

A catty, cynical part of her chimed in that it might have something to do with the clothes (and not _just _that wicked tongue of his). To be completely honest, Pansy _was_ a sucker for a man who dressed sexy in refined garb (much as her mother loved a man in uniform). Weasley's outfit tonight certainly qualified as that; he was the best dressed of the bunch, in her opinion, and that certainly added to his appeal.

But the truth was, there was something compelling about the honesty in his face. Having lived in the paramount den of vipers for the last seven years, it was distinctly refreshing to know that he wasn't putting on an act (for she had trained herself, having bunked with Slytherins continuously for most of her growing years, to sniff out a lie from a hundred paces). Her partner wasn't a liar – he had the courage to say and feel what he willed without fearing repercussions, and she liked that best about him.

If only she could do the same…

His hands dropped down onto the mattress and he looked at her with concern suddenly. "If you don't want to do this, I won't make you. We can just trade cards or something."

The selfless offer melted some of the ice around her serpent's heart. "No, I want to do this," she explained. "I was just… thinking up a good song to do it to. It's better with music."

It wasn't a complete lie, as in the back of her head she had been, in fact, considering a musical selection to set the mood for her disrobing. In a flash of inspiration, she settled on one by her favorite R&B singer, Prince (who skimmed both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds effortlessly, being a Half-blood, with the Muggles none the wiser as to the man's true talents). Yeah, his song, "Cream" would be the perfect accompaniment to set the tone for the next hour.

As Pansy slowly turned fully, the lights dimmed at her mental urging and the song's slow, bass-heavy beat began. Hips swaying in time to the music, she gave Weasley the hottest stare and naughtiest smile in her arsenal – the one that promised wicked things soon – and reached for the buttons down the front of her dress.

_**This is it!  
It's time for you to go to the wire.  
You will hit!  
Cause you got the burnin' desire…  
**_

Slipping each chain free of its accompanying button, her nimble fingers moved to part the mesh frock and pull the satin silk of her dress up her legs slowly, revealing her knees. The dress inched up unhurriedly as she gyrated her hips in a circular motion, revealing the garters holding up the edges of her stockings.

_**It's your time!  
You got the horn, so why don't you blow it?  
You are fine!  
You're filthy cute and, baby, you know it.  
**_

Her fingers purposefully edged under the material, which she stopped at the bottom of her knickers. She licked her lips sexily and put one leg up on the bed, bending her knee and tilting her hips forward, giving him a perfect view of her dampening knickers.

_**Cream…  
Get on top.  
Cream…  
You will cop.  
Cream…  
Don't you stop.  
Cream.  
She-boogie bop.  
**_

Stroking herself over her panties, then gripping the edge of one side, she pulled it over, exposing her dark curls to him once again. Slipping a finger up and down the center of her slit, Pansy tossed her head back, exposing her collared throat, and moaned, caressing herself erotically over her moist lower lips. The jangle of her silver snake bracelet on her left wrist accompanied the sound of the music's beat as she moved her hand in time, swirling circles around her wet vulva.

On the bed, Ron's eyes had gone positively feral with heat and his breathing had become harsh.

_**You're so good!  
Baby, there ain't nobody better.  
So you should  
Never, ever go by the letter.**_

Having had enough of teasing, and with a knowing smirk (his erection was now raging to be let out of his slacks, she noticed), Pansy let her hold on her knickers go and dropped her leg back down to the floor. The dress slid back into place as she reached around behind her to grasp the zipper and began pulling it down.

_**You're so cool!**_

_**Everything you do is success.  
Make the rules,  
Then break them all cause you are the best!  
Yes, you are!  
**_

When the fastener hit its base, and she could easily inch out of the dress, Pansy played with the straps of her outfit, slipping them down her shoulders and arms coyly. Pretending to hide her breasts and crotch away with her hands as the purple-magenta-black fabric fell and pooled at her feet, she made a cute moue with her lips, as if surprised to find herself in such a state of _en déshabillé_. "Oops," she faked being ashamed, grinning like a shark.

She continued to swivel her hips in time to the music, and kept her gaze locked firmly on her partner the whole time. "Want to see more?" she eventually asked him in a low, husky tone.

Transfixed, Weasley nodded, shifting up into a sitting position, bending one knee and leaning an arm on it. "Hell, _yes,_" he murmured. "Take it all off for me, baby."

_**Cream…  
Get on top.  
Cream…  
You will cop.  
Cream…  
Don't you stop.  
Cream.  
She-boogie bop.  
**_

Sliding her hands away from their false pose of hiding away her body, she skimmed her belly with her long, painted nails, watching him follow the path she laid out, up over her sternum, eventually caressing her breasts.

He licked his lips, his cheeks taking on a dusky hue as his lust reared to the surface. "Rip your bra off."

With a throaty laugh that had Weasley scooting to the edge of the bed, Pansy did as her partner wanted, yanking the top of her strapless down with a harsh tug, revealing her bared breasts to him once again. She then shimmied it down to mid-abdomen before reaching behind her and unclasping it. Tossing the bra into his lap – right over his crotch – she cupped her nude, swaying boobs and thrust them out at him with a kittenish arch of her back.

_**Do your dance!  
Why should you wait any longer?  
Take a chance!  
It could only make you stronger.**_

"Pinch your nipples for me," he coaxed next, his eyes darkening with untamed hunger.

Sashaying up to him smoothly, Pansy caressed her breasts right up in his face and did as he wanted, hissing in pleasure from the electric shocks that traveled down her center to her core, instantly moistening her lower lips. After a few more passes, she felt emboldened to try something truly naughty.

Bending her head, locking her eyes on her paramour, she licked zealously over her own hardened nipples one breast at a time.

_**It's your time!  
You got the horn, so why don't you blow it?  
You're so fine!  
You're filthy cute and, baby, you know it.  
**_

"Holy _bloody_ hell," Ron swore on an exhale, licking his lips again and swallowing loudly. "Baby, you're _so_ getting fucked sometime tonight. Hard. To this same song." Widening his legs, he reached for her waist and pulled her in close, meeting her gaze (amusedly tearing himself from the appealing sight of her lapping at her own breasts with some measure of effort, she noted). "I'm gonna fill you with my aching cock and make you scream my name," he vowed, tilting his lips towards her straining nips. "Now, can I suck on these?"

Running her hands through his crimson hair, Pansy nodded and smiled sinfully, her cunt throbbing with the visual his words conjured. "Gods, _yes!_"

_**Come on!**_

_**Cream…  
Get on top.  
Cream…  
You will cop.  
Cream…  
Don't you stop.  
Cream.  
She-boogie bop.  
Boogie!**_

Weasley had Pansy moaning and gasping and grabbing at him in no time, that talented tongue of his again taking her breasts to attention. Throwing her head back wantonly, Pansy cried to the ceiling as his teeth scraped, then nibbled, then finally bit with some measure of pressure.

"Have to… finish the… strip tease for you," she panted the reminder. They _were_ on a time-limit, after all, and she really wanted to play his card soon, as she was slippery between her legs and dying for fulfillment.

A man of direct means, Ron's fingers simply pulled the garters off of her stockings and began dragging the mesh-lace mini-corset down over her knickers, apparently deciding to finish the strip tease himself to get it done quickly. He tugged the garment until it reached her lower thighs, where gravity simply took it the rest of the way down to her feet, then jerked at her panties next, letting his mouth trail down her abdomen.

Warning bells went off in Pansy's head; her partner was now dangerously close to be in violation of the cards. Pushing a tad away, she raised his face to hers to stop his determined actions and stared him in the eye. "Yes, I give you permission to touch me all over and to put your mouth on me anywhere you want." When that formality was done, she stepped back into his sphere of warmth and giggled down at him. "You owe me now," she smiled slyly. "I just saved your ass."

Taken aback, Weasley let out a whistle. "Close call, there. Sorry 'bout that." He let his hands slide up her waist, around her back, following the sway of her hind as he rested his chin on her abdomen and looked up at her through his red-gold lashes. "I definitely owe you, baby," he readily agreed. "Will you let me pay you back now?"

She tilted her head, pretending to consider his offer. "Well…"

He tickled her sides in response, grinning from ear to ear like a fool. "Wicked witch."

Laughing, she wrapped her arms about his neck. "I suppose you could take the rest of my clothing off, if you wanted."

Ron's eyes lit up, and his fingers moved once again to her knickers, thumbing the sides and wrenching them down without any finesse. When they, too, fell to her ankles, he looked at her, considering what to do next. "Leave the stockings on. It'll take too long to get 'em off anyway." With that, he yanked her into his lap, forcing her to straddle him, and as he bent his head to take her lips once more, he asserted his possession of the thatch between her thighs.

Kissing her to distract her, he rolled and laid her back on the edge of the bed, swapping places with her, leaning over her body. "My turn," he announced cheerfully, dropping to his knees between her legs without further ado.

"Oh, gods above!" Pansy howled as his tongue swiped her clear up the middle, and then he was sucking on her clit hard, his fingers diving into her body, pistoning to a strong rhythm that was relentless and sought only one goal: to drive her over the edge. "Yes! Yes! _YES!_"

"That's right. Come for me, pretty baby," her ginger-haired partner moaned, focusing all his attention and skill on bringing her again.

Slytherin's skull cap, who'd have thought Ron Weasley would be the best lover she'd ever have? And she hadn't even had actual intercourse with him yet! He was a natural sex enthusiast, attentive and sincere in bringing her pleasure, treating her with respect – something no man had ever actually shown her before in bed. His willingness to give made her want to give back, and although that frightened her because of its unfamiliarity, it was also a powerful rush – like flying head-first at top speed towards the ground on your broom.

He flicked her taut bead with his tongue, alternating pressure between suckling on it and lightly teasing it. The dichotomy drove her insane with electric need. Gripping his hair tightly, she shoved her hips at him over and over. "Eat me up," she begged, rambling incoherently as she mounted her orgasm quickly. "Oh, Ron! For you! Oh, yes… _all for you!_"

Lifting his head, their gazes connected. "That's right, baby, for me," he agreed, lapping at her clit in oddly shaped patterns. "And for you."

She squeezed her eyes shut, leaned her head back and concentrated on giving to them both, as he traced strange patterns over her wet pussy. Just as she tipped over the edge, she finally realized what he was doing, and her scream of delight ended in amused laughter. Between her legs, Weasley chuckled darkly, finishing up licking the last of her cream before finally leaning up and over her once more.

Wrapping her arms about his neck tiredly, and drawing him down for another kiss, Pansy grinned and shook her head. "Isn't there a 'y' at the end of your name?"

Ron shrugged, grinning. "Couldn't quite finish. You were squeezing my head too tightly." He slid one arm around her shoulders and held her close, kissing her lips, her jaw, her throat, while the other hand slid first down her taut belly and then into the crisp, damp, dark curls between her thighs. He began to tease her labia softly at first, then more insistently, circling her still-aroused clit with his fingers and sending renewed shivers up her spine.

Gods, was he kidding? He wanted to bring her again? "Ron, that feels so wonderful..." she whispered, shivering with anticipation at the feeling of his hand buried between her thighs. But, wait… he hadn't even enjoyed himself, had he? He hadn't found his release. "What about _your_ needs?" She reached down and touched his rock hard erection, stroking it under his trousers.

Ron moaned against her mouth. "_This _is what I need right now, Parkinson." He caressed her slit straight up the middle with two fingers. "Bloody hell, Pansy, you're so _wet_," he murmured as he ate at her mouth, gasping right along with her. "I love that you get so turned on just for me. I love that I do this to you - that you're letting me."

The sound of her name on his lips made her heart tighten up in her chest. "Don't tease, baby," she begged. "Go inside me again."

His fingers tickled her entrance, driving her spare, before plunging into her grasping channel a second time. Pansy cried out in bliss as she felt him part her folds once more, moving slowly in and out with tender care. He was fucking her with his fingers as if this were the most important act in the world just then, holding her and kissing her with an equally gentle awareness. His mouth traveled down her collar equally as slow, licking a determined path to her left nipple. He circled the dark areola twice before taking the super sensitive bud between his lips and sucking. All the while, his hand kept up its rhythmic destruction of her senses between her legs.

"Oh, gods… I _love_ your touch, Ron. _Please_, don't stop," she whispered the plea, her hands gripping onto his hair and pulling him closer into her.

He shook his head. "Won't stop, baby, promise," he quickly answered before returning to the task of suckling on her tits and cherishing her pussy.

It had been too many months since her last relationship had ended; too many nights of fingering herself in her lonely bed, silencing the curtains around her to prevent the others from knowing what she was doing. It felt so good to have a man touch her like this again – to have _him_ touch her. To be able to scream with her pleasure if she wanted, and no one but the two of them would ever know.

Tears burned in the back of her eyes at the intensity of the emotions building in her chest. Could she give this up at the end of the game? Could she walk away from this perfect brand of loving now that she'd found it after searching for so long? Slytherin help her, she was starting to think that maybe she didn't want to. She liked what they were doing too much; was starting to realize that she actually liked Ronald Weasley in the mix, too, and not just because he made her come again and again, but because he seemed to sincerely _want_ to do so. He cherished her, desired her. Could they build something out of that?

Gods help her, she was in way over her head this time. This couldn't end well for either of them, because her future was set, and her Gryffindor lover wasn't going to be a part of that picture. Not that she had any say in the matter…

"Ride my fingers, baby," he coaxed, lapping at her right breast, his free hand petting her cheek, his naughty hand retreating from her body slowly, only to slide home again and again and, _merciful gods!_... again. "Use those hips of yours. Moan for me. Let me make you come again."

Pansy did as bade, thrusting her thighs and arse in time to his hand's patient cadence, coupling with him in a way she'd always wanted to with a man – sweetly, sensually. She moaned, she begged, she sweated and reached for her climax with all her might, wanting to call out to him at that perfect moment.

When Ron's thumb brushed her swollen, vulnerable clit in a circular motion, she let go, screaming his name. Behind her eyelids, the world exploded in bright, white stars, and in her veins, lightning and blood rode fast together, shattering every nerve ending with pleasure. Her orgasm lasted the longest she'd ever experienced; she just kept coming and coming, her whole body shaking, out of control. "_Oh, Ron!_" she cried again, pulling his head up and fiercely sealing her lips to his, wanting to shove these feelings into him to share, wishing he could know and understand how much pleasure he'd just brought her.

When the wave finally retreated, and she lay limp and sated in his arms, Ron withdrew his fingers from her body with a final swipe up the center. He then brought that hand to his lips and sucked on her release, licking every bit off. "You taste so good, Pansy," he moaned. "And you smell _fantastic_." His mouth moved to slant over hers, and she tasted herself on his lips as she kissed him hungrily. When he pulled back, he looked down at her with a contented smile. "I loved doing that to you, baby," he admitted, brushing her sweat-damped hair from her forehead and cheek lightly. "And I'm gonna do it again and again to you, too. Every chance you let me."

Her chest tightened painfully. Every chance… If only there _was_ a chance beyond the next twenty-three hours.

_Foolish woman, he's not meant for you and you know it_, she self-censured silently.

It was a waste of time pining for 'what ifs,' especially when she didn't even know Weasley's real feelings about her; this might all just be a fun one-off for him anyway. No, this game, the time she spent here with this wizard, she would enjoy it, and it would just have to be enough to fill the loneliness and need within her. Perhaps it could even carry her through what was awaiting her after graduation.

"I'd like that," she smiled up at him, stroking his cheek delicately with her fingertips, locking her anxieties away in her heart.

Eyes as blue as the oceans gazed down on her with tenderness, and then he bent his head and claimed her lips again. They kissed and kissed for a long time, enjoying the taste and warmth they shared, and then the chime rang, and Pansy realized she was still not dressed. "We're going to be late," she warned, pulling her mouth from his. "Ten minutes over final call time and it'll be the end of the game for us both."

Weasley looked down at her, measuring, and then grinned and shrugged. "We lose, big deal." He pressed his jutting erection up against her. "Wanna fuck now?"

Pansy shook her head and pushed him, sitting up and rushing to gather her clothes, hastily throwing them back on. "Forget it. You're not ferreting out on the next cards, my sexy wizard." She turned after throwing her dress over her and smoothing it down, deciding to leave her shoes on the floor where she'd flung them, entirely too unbalanced at the moment for heels (her world was still glowingly reeling from what he'd just done for her). "I want to play with you some more before we get down to it, mister."

Her partner's eyebrows hit his hairline as a terribly naughty thought passed over his features. "Oh, yeah, we still have my _Deeds _and _Forfeits_ to go!" he grinned brightly, rubbing his hands back and forth in anticipation. "Can't wait!"

Pansy couldn't help it; his enthusiasm was so real and contagious that she burst into laughter again as he opened the door for them and took her hand in his. They were both laughing and breathless with anticipation as they raced each other to the couches, eager for the next round's surprises.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "I'm A Slave 4 U" by Britney Spears. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**I know I may be young, but I've got feelings too,  
And I need to do what I feel like doing.  
So, let me go and just listen...**_

_**All you people look at me like I'm a little girl.**_  
_**Well, did you ever think it'd be okay for me to step into this world?**_  
_**Always saying little girl don't step into the club...**_  
_**Well, I'm just tryin' to find out why, 'cause dancing's what I love.**_

_**Get it, get it, get it, get it (WHOOOA)**_  
_**Get it, get it, get it, get it (WHOOOOOA)(Do you like it?)**_  
_**Get it, get it, get it, get it (OOOHHHH)(This feels good!)**_

_**I know I may come off quiet, I may come off shy,**_  
_**But I feel like talking, feel like dancing when I see this guy.**_  
_**What's practical is logical. What the hell, who cares?**_  
_**All I know is I'm so happy when you're dancing there.**_

_**I'm a slave for you. **__**I cannot hold it; I cannot control it.  
I'm a slave for you. I won't deny it; I'm not trying to hide it. **_

_**Baby, don't you wanna, dance upon me,**_  
_**(I just wanna dance next to you!)**_  
_**To another time and place?**_  
_**Baby, don't you wanna, dance upon me,**_  
_**(Are you ready?)**_  
_**Leaving behind my name, my age?**_  
_**(Let's go!)**_  
_**(Like that!)**_  
_**(You like it!)**_  
_**(Now watch me...)**_

_**Get it, get it, get it, get it (WHOOOA)**_  
_**Get it, get it, get it, get it (WHOOOOOA)**_  
_**Get It, get it, get it, get it (OOOHHHH)**_

_**I really wanna dance, tonight with you.**_  
_**(I just can't help myself!)**_  
_**I really wanna do what you want me to.**_  
_**(I just feel I let myself go!)**_

_**I really wanna dance, tonight with you.**_  
_**(Wanna see you move!)**_  
_**I really wanna do what you want me to.**_  
_**(Uh, Uh, Uh.)**_

_**Baby, don't you wanna, dance upon me,**_  
_**(I just wanna dance next to you!)**_  
_**To another time and place?**_  
_**Baby, don't you wanna, dance upon me,**_  
_**(Are you ready?)**_  
_**Leaving behind my name, my age!**_

_**I'm a slave for you... (Take that!)... **__**I cannot hold it; I cannot control it.  
I'm a slave... (It just feels right!)... for you... (It just feels good!)... I won't deny it; I'm not trying to hide it... (Baby!)**_

_**Get it, get it, get it, get it (WHOOOA)**_  
_**Get it, get it, get it, get it (WHOOOOOA)**_  
_**Get it, get it, get it, get it (OOOHHHH)**_

_**I'm a slave for you... (Here we go now!)... **__**I cannot hold it; I cannot control it.**_  
_**I'm a slave for you... (Here we go!)... I won't deny it... (Yeah!)... **__**I'm not trying to hide it... **__**(Like that?)**_


	12. Chapter 3C: Draco & Hermione

**__****CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **_User_**__**** "SUN_NEVER_RISES" **_recommended the song, **"Unusual You" by Britney Spears **for Hermione & Draco this go around. It perfectly reflects Hermione's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to SUN_NEVER_RISES - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**AUTHOR'S ASIDE:** Received my first image-manips today and I have to say that they look positively **DELICIOUS!** Remember, I'll accept digitally manipulated images of live people as well as hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. Also, you can even send in multiple entries, so don't think that once you submit a picture for a couple that you're not allowed anymore... the more the better! I'll pick my favorites at the end and award those people with banners and LOTS of kudos all over the place. So, don't be shy... **SEND ME YOUR IMAGES!**

**FINAL NOTES: THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN UNSEENLIBRARIAN **for once more being the beta that rocks my socks off! You truly make this fic beautiful (and grammatically correct... *blush*... I admit, I'm terrible at that sort of thing). Every chapter is also dedicated to you. And, **NEVILLES_GIRL**, thank you for the creative fic challenge you sent me here. This is turning out to be one of my favorites.

**Oh, yes, and PLEASE REVIEW! **I love hearing from you! Did you like this chapter? Hate it? Do you like the song choice? What do you think will happen next with this couple? **TELL ME, TELL ME! **I'm dying just to know your thoughts!

* * *

_**CHAPTER THREE (#3): Draco & Hermione**_

By the time Hermione had caught up to Draco's longer, faster strides and entered their private room, the interior had changed. Gone was the blindingly white décor. In its place was a beach scene, complete with a layer of flattened white sand upon the floor. In the dead center of the space was an elegantly laid out table (complete with plates of food already waiting to be consumed and a hurricane lamp lit candle) and two chairs seated next to, rather than across from, each other. Circling the set-up at a safe distance, set into the sand, were a series of golden glowing candle lanterns. Palm frond tiki torches (each tied with a pink Hibiscus medley flower arrangement) were staked in a circle beyond the lanterns, their flames lit – the only other illumination in the room. Magically piped in was the sound effect of the ocean waves lapping gently upon a shore, and the ceiling was charmed to look like the night sky, complete with a faux moon that was at half face. The overall effect was a rather romantic ambiance.

Instantly, her stomach clenched in dread.

"Are you going to gape all night in the doorway?" Malfoy teased dryly. "That would be an awful reason to forfeit at this point."

Snapping to, Hermione stepped into the room, realized the impracticality of her heels and knew she'd have to remove them if she intended upon entering fully. "What… is all of this?" she asked, as she bent, balancing one hand against the wall just inside the door and removing her golden sandals.

"This," Malfoy indicated with a sweep of his hand, bending to remove his own shoes and socks as well. "This is dinner and dessert. I don't know about you, but I didn't get a chance to eat, so I'm sort of thankful I got the card I did this round."

Hermione shifted her toes into the sand; it was so soft and warm that she hummed in pleasure. "And what does your card say exactly?"

Malfoy took his card from his trouser pocket and read it aloud to her:

_**DEED: Order and share your favorite meal with your partner. Explain to them why you like every part.**_

"Hmmm, that's a rather nice card," she admitted, surprised that anyone in Slytherin would have come up with something so benign. "Tracey's maybe?"

Sleekly muscled shoulders shrugged casually. "Or it could be Potter's or Brown's," he commented off-handedly.

Hermione shook her head. "No, my team read each other's cards before turning them in."

"Oh, really?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow in interest. "Isn't that akin to cheating, Granger? I thought you Gryffindors would be above such things."

She shrugged. "I prefer to think of it as necessary preparation. After all, we _were_ going into a game with a bunch of Slytherins. '_Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends,' _right?"

Draco grinned and shrugged. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Hermione tsk'd and shook her head, then giving the matter no more thought, enticed by the scent of the meal (she hadn't eaten either, honestly, hardly able to stomach the sight of food before the night's game had kicked off, her nerves on high alert), she made her way over to the table, noting the colorful and unique array of haute cuisine dishes already laid out, all kept warm under mini glass domes on fancy plates. There were also two full settings arranged, signaling that she and Malfoy would share each portion. "How lovely," she smiled, taken aback. "And it all smells so delicious." Placing a hand over her belly, she blushed. "I admit I'm famished as well."

Before she could reach to scoot her chair out and sit, her partner was behind her, tucking her in chivalrously. He even laid her napkin out on her lap properly before circling around and taking the seat next to her, closer to the dishes (as, apparently, he would act as server). From a silver ice bucket at his side, he pulled out a chilled white wine. It had recently been uncorked and was waiting to be poured. With expert handling, Draco filled her white wine goblet halfway, twirled it to aerate, and then handed it to her by the stem, as was proper. He measured out an equal amount for his own glass, and then set the wine bottle back down to remain at a cool temperature.

Raising his glass in a toast, he stared at her evenly, his face a blank, unreadable mask. "To the game: may the next twenty-four hours be unforgettable for both of us, Granger."

Hermione's gut clenched. If she hadn't gotten the glaring clue last round that Malfoy was up to no good, this cinched her suspicions. When she added up the facts, the picture became crystal clear: obviously, this entire charade had been schemed and executed by Slytherin's Prince with the sole purpose of humiliating her one final time. She was sure Harry and Ron's embarrassment had been part of the goal, too, but of a secondary concern. No, _she'd_ been this wizard's aim all along. He wanted revenge against her, specifically, most likely because she'd beaten him continuously in academics and in oratory sparring time and again (after all, Draco was a very prideful, vain person). That she had accomplished that feat despite her magical purity status…

Malfoy hated Harry because, of the two, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain had been physically the better performer on the pitch. However, at least her best male friend was a Half-blood, and for that reason, was redeemable in the eyes of the purist elite within the wizarding world. But Hermione was _persona non grata_ – the lowest of the low to those of Pure-blood stock. Her bettering of Draco by two measly grade points (thus stealing the spot as Valedictorian of their class), probably galled him more than any other loss he'd faced to date, being as serious as he'd been about his studies. She bet her bottom galleon that his father wouldn't be happy at the loss of face as a result, either.

So, all of this – the apparent interest in her in a sexual manner - really was a sham, as she's suspected all along, and therefore, Malfoy's aim became glaringly apparent: he intended upon seducing her, making her an agreeable partner to his advances, and in the end, he would cruelly hold it over her head for the rest of their lives that she'd willingly let him – her greatest rival, and a man who found her to be no better than a skrewt's turd - fuck her.

"Not going to raise your glass?" he asked, seemingly innocently curious. The act was a good one, she had to admit.

Not wanting to give herself away quite yet, she plastered a fake smile on her lips and toasted him in return, clinking glasses gently. "To the game," she intoned back and sipped at her wine, amazed with its smooth, melting flavor as it rolled across her tongue and down her throat. There was no bite, denoting the wine was of a good reserve and age. Mmm… that was quite a delicious vintage! Pulling back, she twirled her glass again, looked at the legs as the sugar content ran down the sides, and then stuck her nose in and inhaled deeply, separating out the various notes and cataloguing them. "You seem coached in the etiquette of fine dining, Malfoy," she wryly noted. "But then, I suppose with your family's wealth, this sort of meal would be a regular staple at the Manor House."

He watched her carefully over the lip of his glass, drinking half in one tilt of his head, and putting it back down on the table, near his plate. He reached out and removed the lid on one of the dishes, and Hermione noted it appeared to be quartered figs, resting atop some sort of thinly-sliced prosciutto. "Black mission figs with Serrano ham," he explained, using the small fork that rested on the plate to serve her a few pieces of each. "This reminds me of the summer before Third Year. I had just turned thirteen, and we were having dinner with the family of one of my father's friends in Barcelona. The wizard had a daughter named Alara. She was a year older than me, with long, midnight black, straight hair, sky-blue eyes, and a nice set of knockers. She played footsy under the table with me every time there was a meal." He smirked and shook his head with the memory, putting the appetizer plate back down and reaching for his own napkin, laying it across his lap. "I got my first kiss that July from her. She snogged me senseless for over an hour under one of her father's fig trees in the far back end of the orchard on the estate. After, we ate the figs right off the branch and returned to the house holding hands." Picking up his appetizer fork, he poked at one of the sliced fruit portions, spearing it, and bringing it to his lips. "I asked her to be my girlfriend."

Hermione nearly dropped her fork into the sand at that last bit. Up until that point, she'd been listening, but multi-tasking, trying to decide on a course of action to take now that she knew he intended on using this game as a weapon. However, at the mention of Malfoy falling hard for a girl – a child's crush, really – she tuned-in completely to his story, strangely mesmerized with the very idea that he actually had a heart and had put it on the line for a girl. "What happened?" she heard herself ask, conjecturing that they weren't together anymore by the fact that he'd dated Pansy a few years back, and a whole lot of other girls since.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to bite off her tongue and swallow it, realizing that she shouldn't care a fig (internally wincing at the unintended pun) for Malfoy's personal life. Instead, she shoved a piece of the dark-purplish fruit in her mouth, tasting the fresh, sweet ripeness of it from the first chomp, chasing it down with a small slice of ham. The bit of wine she'd drunk earlier didn't detract at all from the flavor, thankfully, allowing her the full experience of the combination.

He sniffed in amusement, chewed his fig completely and swallowed before answering, as was mannerly. "The other visiting family at the time had a son the same age as her. Turns out he liked figs, too."

Hermione's gut instinct was to sympathize; she felt a small, sharp pain for the cynicism reflected in his wintery grey depths. A first heartbreak was never something you forgot, she knew first hand, and it was never easy to swallow. "How terrible. I'm sorry."

Blinking out of his remembrances, her partner turned to her and indicated the appetizer she was still chewing. "What do you think of it?"

Swallowing and primly dabbing her lips with her napkin, she looked down at her now-empty plate. "That was the first fig I've ever tasted, honestly. It was… wonderful, actually. Rich, sort of nutty, like a lychee, but not with the same juicy explosion. It's softer, too, and the small seeds added a ticklish texture as they crossed my tongue. The ham was just the perfect complement, a tad salty and smoky to balance out the sweet. I liked it very much."

Malfoy was looking at her with something like amazement, his golden-blonde brows stretched up into his brow higher than she'd ever seen before. "And what did you think of the wine?" he asked, genuinely interested (or at least, he appeared to be).

Lifting her glass again to her nose, she closed her eyes and inhaled, letting the aroma take her. "Notes of Anjou pear, fresh vanilla bean, and a hint of roasted almonds." She took a sip, letting it rest upon the back of her pallet before swallowing. "Very nicely aged, smooth. I get the hint of a French oak barrel."

Her partner's mouth dropped open, literally, and he looked at her with awe. "Well, call me surprised, Granger. Who'd have guessed you're secretly a food connoisseur?"

She blinked, blushed hotly, and put the wine glass back down hurriedly. "My mother's family is Greek. It's all about the food." She shrugged, trying to pass it off as nothing special.

Malfoy was leaning his elbow rather rudely on the table, resting his jaw against his fingers as he contemplated her behind narrowed eyes in silence for a bit. After a minute, his inspection became uncomfortable, though. "What?" she demanded, not liking the fact that he'd already unnerved her somewhat, and they'd only been in the room for about ten minutes together.

"Is that why you're so good at Potions?" he finally asked. "Can you smell the ingredients well enough to know what goes into each concoction?"

Hermione considered it and lightly shrugged. "I never compared the making of a draught to the process of making a meal, but I suppose that could be the reason. I know I can separate out the tastes, when I ingest an elixir."

Malfoy seemed to mull over her answer for another few moments, before turning to the next menu item without a reply. Lifting the lid, he slid one of the two shelled lobster claws onto her plate, and scooped on top some of the buttery sauce. He then added some of the side greens on top. "Christmas, Sixth Year, my parents took me to Boston. We dined at a fine establishment in the wizarding part of the city. I ordered this dish. My father abhors seafood, and made a comment to such an effect as the server brought our appetizers to the table. I spent the rest of the meal trying to convince him to try the dish. He eventually gave in, just to shut me up. He orders lobster now quite often." He had been slicing his meat up as he spoke and now took a bit, chewing it and shutting his eyes in pleasure. When he finished, he took another sip of his wine. "It was the first time I'd actually been able to sway my father on any issue."

Hermione listened attentively as she tried the appetizer herself, conceding with a sound of pleasure that she, too, enjoyed the flavor of the dish. "It's delicious," she favored the compliment. "Not too chewy, buttery soft, with a hint of… garlic, I think?"

Malfoy watched her as he lingered over his glass and nodded. "Very finely chopped. Try the greens with it." She did so, and the combination of crisp butter lettuce with the meat was succulent. She smiled and nodded at him in approval.

"So, do you have a 'lobster story' to share, Granger?" her partner asked, smirking.

She swallowed and dabbed her lips again with her napkin. "Or a 'fig one'?"

He nodded. "Or a 'fig one,' yes."

Hermione pondered for a moment, as he reached for the next dish – some sort of dark, roasted meat covered with cooked, sliced cherries. It smelled of cinnamon and sweet wine; she inhaled as he ladled out a heaping spoonful onto her plate. "I shared a plum pudding with my nine year old neighbor named Adam," she admitted, grinning, feeling strangely at ease sharing such silly memories with this man. "We were best friends growing up, and I had a small baby crush on him from practically the start, but he never seemed to notice. I thought that if we shared the dessert, he might like me." She sniffed and shook her head in remembered distaste. "He stuffed his face on most of it himself, and then ran off to go play in the snow, leaving me to clean up the mess. I was so angry with him that I walked outside with the pudding plate and dumped the last of it on his head, and then I refused to talk to him again. He came groveling back a week later, with the recipe for making a plum pudding folded up in his pocket. He handed it to me with an apology and we were best friends again after that." She smiled fondly and shook her head. "I live a very exciting life."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "Whatever happened to him?" he asked. "This boy."

"We still see each other on occasion," she told him, swirling the last of her wine around, preparing it for the final swig. "On breaks when I go home. He only lives a few doors down from my parents."

As casually as possible, Malfoy reached for a bottle from a non-chilled bucket to the side. This one contained a red wine. He uncorked it and sniffed, then poured half a glass into his empty goblet. "Does he know you're a witch?"

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "Dumbledore made it clear when he came to visit me after I received my Hogwarts acceptance letter that being a practitioner of magic was a secret we couldn't share with anyone outside of our immediate family, unless they already knew. I can never tell him… unless we marry, that is."

Malfoy's hand paused in its pouring for just a moment. "Are you dating this… Adam… then?"

She shook her head and laughed. "Oh, no! I mean… no. I'm not the right gender for him." A small giggle escaped Hermione's lips, and she immediately put her fingers up in front of her mouth in embarrassment. "Must be the wine getting to me. I'm a bit of a lightweight," she admitted, then reached for her glass and downed the rest of the delicious spirit. "May I have a little more, please?"

Draco's silvery-grey gaze was warmly, indolently examining her. Silently, he reached for her wine glass, and as they passed the stem between them, he stopped her from pulling away, capturing her fingers under his. "I like that you dumped the pudding on him. He deserved it."

Hermione's heart sped up unwittingly. "You… you've deserved a plate over your head more than once, too, you know," she pointed out.

One golden eyebrow twitched. "I'm sure I have," he conceded, giving her a smoldering smirk. "Are you offering to share a meal _on_ me, then?"

Pulling her fingers away, she let him have the wine glass, bristling at his blatant innuendo. "Certainly not!" she huffed, but immediately worried her lip, wondering if she would be made a liar out of later if she had the misfortune of drawing one of Ginny's cards, as the girl had written up edible _Deeds_ and _Forfeits_ cards, both.

Deflecting the situation by focusing on the portion before her, Hermione tried to cover her obvious embarrassment. "What about this dish?"

Malfoy chuckled darkly, discerningly, pouring a glass of berry-colored wine and handing her back her half-filled goblet. "This is the dish I was enjoying during the Easter break this year, when I had my revelation about my future. My parents and I had traveled to Argentina with the Parkinsons – Pansy included. They were trying to establish an open dialogue about marriage entanglements between our families now that we were coming up on graduation." His fork moved the contents around on his plate as he spoke in a manner decidedly agitated. "I'd just taken a bite of my dinner when I realized that if I didn't speak up in defense of my own wants right then and there, against the ancient tradition of prearranged marriage, I was going to end up just like the rabbit we were eating – a tasty morsel to be enjoyed, but no more than that." He smirked and tilted his head. "So, I spoke up, made it clear I wanted a future of my own making, not one designed for me, and just like that, I was free - like a rabbit is supposed to be."

Hermione blinked, horror spreading through her guts. "Prearranged marriage? This isn't the Dark Ages, Malfoy. You mean to tell me that you parents would really have foisted Parkinson off on you if hadn't said anything? Why would they think they could have that kind of power over you? You're an adult, legally."

Draco's smirk turned bitter. "I still rely upon the goodwill of my family's inheritance and the protections allotted the Malfoy name to establish myself in the world, though." He took a sip of his dark, ruby-colored wine. "Regardless of what you may believe, Granger, there is a wizarding elite and they move in circles that Half-bloods and Muggle-borns don't have a clue exist. Pure-blood families typically follow ancient convention when it comes to marriages, producing heirs and preparing death ceremonies. It's only been in the last thirty or so years that the custom has been changing, but some traditions are too deeply rooted - modernity be damned."

"Are you saying your parents might have disinherited you completely for what you did?" she asked, wide-eyed, revolted by the thought. Her parents would never consider interfering in her life in such a fashion, much less telling her to kiss off if she didn't follow their advice. She thought her relationship with them was such that even if they disagreed with her on major life choices, they would always have her back, the same way she, Ron and Harry did.

Malfoy shrugged. "I took the chance. Better to be eaten by the sharks then to sink with the ship, yes? Fortunately, it paid off."

Hermione was simply floored, her impression of who and what Draco Malfoy really was heaving and listing somewhat under the weight of this new revelation into his personality. "That took courage, Malfoy." She measured him up behind pursed lips for a moment. "I admit that I'm decidedly impressed that you could do such a thing, knowing that you could have lost everything you hold dear. It was a very… Gryffindor-ish… thing you did, standing up for your dreams like that."

His smirk was positively wolfish as he chuckled again and shook his head. "Don't paint me so magnanimously, Granger. My mother has a way of making my father agree with her, and I'm her spoilt, baby boy. I banked on her sympathy and support to sway his opinion, honestly. It took five days of her not speaking a peep to him afterwards to relent." He nudged his jaw towards her plate. "You going to try it, or are rabbits like house elves: too innocent and cute for the barbeque?"

She couldn't help it; Hermione burst out laughing. "You are absolutely… incorrigible!" she gaily accused.

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "At least you're finally noticing."

With a shake of her head in exasperation, Hermione hooked a piece of the juicy-looking meat onto her fork and popped it into her mouth. The explosion of taste was marvelous, and she couldn't help but moan again. The rabbit was definitely a more gamey flavor than typical store-bought meats, but it was delicately flavored, having been tenderly braised. The cinnamon and cherries were a perfect combination to bring out the meat's wilder essence.

When she'd finished sampling the first bite, she took a sip of the red wine. It was the ideal counterpart to the meal. "Delicious!" she concurred. "The cherries and cinnamon make the meat pop, and the wine adds the bite needed to wash it all down. This truly is a wonderful meal."

Malfoy's eyes watched her with true warmth, shimmering almost bronze in the torch light one moment, only to recapture a steely glint as he shifted in his chair and the false moon reclaimed them in the shadows. "I'm glad you're enjoying it," he murmured low, his voice smoothed with a silken, honeyed tone.

As before, when she'd been sniffing his cologne, her nose pressed into the smooth skin of his neck, Hermione felt sultry, powerfully persuasive desire slide through her veins. In between her legs, an ache began, fueled by a slippery wetness that she fought to ignore.

This was Draco Malfoy, ferret boy extraordinaire that she was getting all hot and bothered by! It was ridiculous and dangerous to feel this way – especially when she knew what he was really up to now. With a forcible mental reminder that he was only using this to get her to lower her shields, Hermione intentionally looked back to her plate and finished the portion before her, refusing to allow herself to fall for the age-old trap that was sex.

"There's still dessert," he offered, reaching for the final plate on the table that had remained untouched. He lifted the lid to reveal a slice of very moist, lemon-colored cake, topped with what looked to be a fresh cream sauce. On the side was a scoop of what appeared to be vanilla bean ice cream, and beside that, a mini round tower of solidified custard. Decorating the plate was some sort of caramel sauce, a vanilla stick, and some very thin, fried fruit – apple and banana – slices. It was a pleasing presentation, certainly, and just enough for them to share.

With a thought, the other plates all disappeared from the table, both of them having finished eating the main meal. All that remained were the glasses of wine – his remaining a quarter full, hers less than half – and the desserts and two forks.

"Please try it," he indicated her polished silver utensil before her.

Truthfully, the dessert looked too tempting to pass up, so she picked up her fork and made ready. "What do you recommend I try first?" she asked, trying to keep things politely cordial, but backing off from the earlier familiarity a tad.

Apparently picking up on the changed vibe, Malfoy watched her a bit, considering his next angle, she could tell. "The panna cotta cake," he recommended reservedly, backing off on the charm. As she took the first bite, allowing the texture and taste to roll across her tongue, he began explaining the history to the choice of this dessert. "I was fourteen, it was two days before New Year's, and we were in Italy at the Zabini's manor house for Blaise's grandmother's seventieth birthday. This was the cake they served. One of the cousins in attendance, Leila, simply appeared at my side while I was enjoying it and took a bite off my plate without asking. She was seventeen, blonde, green eyes – very pretty. We talked for a bit after that. I lost my virginity to her in an empty bedroom upstairs later that night while everyone else was downstairs partying."

Hermione nearly choked, managed to keep from spraying the contents of her mouth all over the table as she coughed once, and swallowed hurriedly instead. She chased the whole thing down with a sip of wine, helping to transition the food down her esophagus quickly. Malfoy patiently waited her out, while she regained composure. It took more than a minute, but then she felt more under control (although her face was flaming, she could tell by the heat on her cheeks). "I apologize for that interruption," she tried to sound properly contrite. "Pray continue."

With teasing humor, Malfoy pointed his fork over the mini tower. "Try the apple custard flan next."

She reached to scrape a bit onto her fork, paused, and glanced at him through her lashes. "If I do, will you wait to spring the next story on me again until after I've swallowed?"

Draco full out laughed, and it was such an infectious, _good_ and _honest_ sound that Hermione couldn't help but snicker and smile in return. "This story isn't quite so shockingly scandalous," he consoled her. "The flan was one of my favorites from Kyoto, when we went there during April during the break in Fifth Year. We stopped in a small café in their wizarding alley, and I ordered it, while looking out over the main street. That's when I first caught sight of one of the oddest apothecary ingredients I've ever seen: a talking purple flower. The thing sounded like it was bemoaning sitting in a pot outside the shop, because it kept calling and turning towards passersby, acting like it wanted to go home with one of them. I couldn't understand a word it said, but it was bloody hilarious to watch." He took a bite out of the cake, while she tried some of the custard. When his mouth was cleared again, he continued. "I'd never seen anything like it before, and realized that we were missing a lot of the Eastern cultural traditions here in Europe, because we didn't have access to their unique plants and herbs."

Hermione swallowed the mouthful of appetizing flan – loving the sweet-sour combination, that reminded her so of a Granny Smith apple – and piped in then. "I suspect you saw a Singing Dog's Tooth Violet, as they're said to be melodramatic and temperamental." She toyed with collecting another bite of the apple custard on her fork. "They're quite rare, you know. Endemic to Japan."

Malfoy stopped again, watching her carefully. It made her decidedly uncomfortable, this odd scrutiny, so she shoved another forkful of yummy goodness into her mouth. "What do you use them for?"

"Their roots used to be ground up and used as a binding and thickening agent in beauty-product draughts," she explained as she finished chewing. "But in the 19th century, potato starch became the predominant ingredient for such things because it was cheaper to reproduce and didn't talk your ear off when preparing it."

Gently placing his fork on the edge of the plate to indicate he was done eating, Malfoy wiped his mouth and folded his napkin, putting it on the table next to the fork. He finished off his wine in one swallow. "No wonder you're Valedictorian. I formally concede; you utterly deserved the spot, Granger. You're twice the brain I am."

Hermione blinked at him, not expecting that kind of twisted praise _at all_. It disarmed her totally to hear him sincerely surrender to her greater intelligence. "There's a book on it in the library…" she tried to explain, but his snicker cut her off.

"Of course there is," he ribbed. "One you've read cover to cover, no doubt."

She looked down, feeling ire grow in her belly. "I hate it when you do that," she murmured sourly, putting her fork down and sitting back in her chair. "Make fun of me because I enjoy learning new things. I like reading, and I like sharing information with others. So what? At least I can carry on a conversation that isn't exclusively centered on the week's 'Dear Tabitha' column in _Witch Weekly_."

Malfoy was quiet for a moment, and the sound of the ocean waves returned to help balm her raw feelings. "I didn't mean it as an insult, Hermione."

Her eyes shot to his, wary, shocked that he'd used her first name again, as if they were friends or something more intimate.

The moments ticked away as neither said a thing, simply assessed the other. It was Draco who broke the stalemate again. "You really are the brightest practitioner of our age. You're going to go far in your life because of the knowledge stored in your head. I'm just amazed you can keep so many facts straight and accurate. I wish I had the skill."

Glancing at him from the side, she considered how sincere he was in his apology. He _seemed_ genuine. True, he hadn't actually said he was sorry for offending her, but this was Malfoy, and what he'd just said was probably the best she could expect, if he really meant any of it at all.

Reclaiming her fork, she poked at the melting ice cream scoop. "And this?" she asked, trying to get them back on track, not liking how the last twenty minutes were beginning to make her doubt her earlier beliefs about the wizard sitting across from her.

A smile twitched a corner of his lips as he stared at the fast-dissolving ball of vanilla cream. "Indonesia, a few days after my eleventh birthday, when I received my Hogwarts letter. My mother wanted to treat me to something exotic, so my father Apparated us all three together to a small café in Jakarta's small wizarding hub and we gorged on the local cuisine. This was my favorite part of the meal, though – the banana-vanilla bean ice cream. It was made fresh, and was already melting by the time the bowl arrived to the table. The fried banana slice on top was coated in caramelized sugar, just the same."

He smiled, reached for his fork and took a small dollop into the end of the tines, bringing it to his lips. He sighed in pleasure, and then put his utensil back down, leaving the rest for her. Hermione indulged as he continued talking, enjoying the rich flavor of banana combining with vanilla and cream across her tongue.

"My father had wanted me to go to Durmstrang, but my mother wouldn't have it," he explained composedly. "Too far for her tastes. I was pleased, actually, because I'd wanted to go to Hogwarts since I found out my father had gone there. I wanted to get into Slytherin to please him, to follow in his footsteps so he'd be proud of me." His smile dropped, as his gaze unfocused, turning inward. "But, it seems I've disappointed him once too often lately."

Hermione was almost afraid to ask, but for some reason, felt compelled to know more; to know what it was that had made Draco Malfoy frown with some measure of pain as he was just then. "How could you possibly have disappointed him? You're perfect at everything you do, and every girl in school practically trips all over herself to get your attention."

His focus returned to her and he spoke candidly, his eyes burning with meaning. "Not every girl."

Finishing off the final bit of ice cream, scraping it through the caramel sauce, she put her fork down for the final time, wiped her mouth daintily with her napkin and folded it the same as Malfoy had earlier. She also finished off her glass of wine, feeling the alcohol shooting straight to her brain, emboldening her in a way she was sure she would regret later.

Picking her card up off the table, where she'd laid it when taking her seat, she read it aloud to him:

_**FORFEIT: Tell your partner a frightening secret about yourself. Explain it in detail. Answer their questions about it.**_

Staring into Malfoy's eyes, she knew exactly what secret she needed to say aloud, for both their sakes. Maybe it would change everything, make him less likely to want to hurt her later. "I've secretly had a crush on you all this year. It's just a small one, so don't make it a bigger deal than that, but… there you have it: _every_ girl in school you can now accurately boast."

Malfoy's eyes widened perceptively and a tension built in his shoulders, flexing them taut. He leaned forward in his seat, closing the distance between them. Hermione sat back, scooting as far to the left of her chair as she could manage without falling off, keeping as much space as possible from him. "You like me? Why?"

Hermione snorted indelicately, trying to keep a lid on this potentially explosive truth. "Really, Malfoy, I already told you that I find you handsome, and your intelligence and ambition are compelling traits. It's your mouth I don't care for. If you weren't such an unbelievable prat most of the time, I could actually like you more."

A very slow, very sensual smirk crawled up his face as his eyelids shuttered seductively, making Hermione internally groan. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to stroke his ego like this. Now the power balance between them had shifted in his favor once more, putting her at a distinct disadvantage.

Bloody, randy alcohol! Bloody, awful card! Bloody, stupid game!

With a thought, the table before them was banished, as were the wine buckets. Hermione was trying to gain her feet, just as Malfoy stood to his full six foot-one inch height and loomed over her; she'd forgotten how fast he really was, with those Seeker reflexes of his. Pale hands shot out and gripped the chair backing, effectively trapping her between as he leaned down, his face mere inches from her own. "Have you ever thought about me sexually?"

Quelling the riotous pixies in her stomach, Hermione affected a bored look. "Yes, so?"

His smirk became positively wicked as he moved in, swooping towards her ear at the last moment. Hermione hadn't been worried he'd actually kiss her, because he'd have needed her permission to do so or he'd have violated the rules and would have had to forfeit. "Have you ever come thinking of me like that, Hermione?"

She grit her teeth, tried not to answer, but the stupid spell on the cards was forcing her. She'd opened this can of worms picking this specific secret to reveal, so now she had no choice but to do as the card required and answer all of his inquiries truthfully. "Yes."

He hummed in approval. "How often?"

"Often enough," she bit, trying to fudge around the truth, but found that was quite impossible. She was induced to speak the truth. "At least once a week since October last year."

"Always me?" he asked, breathing hotly down her neck, causing small shivers to overtake her spine.

Clasping her hands together in her lap, trying to keep them from shaking, feeling the sweat on her palms break out, Hermione swallowed heavily. "Almost always. Maybe ninety percent of the time."

Malfoy was quiet for a few heartbeats, and she knew – absolutely _knew_ – what he was going to ask next. "Who else?"

Bloody, buggering hell! She didn't want anyone else to know this... "Theo, twice. Adam, maybe four or five times," she admitted through gritted teeth.

"I thought you said you weren't interested in your childhood boy toy," Draco bit, sounding a touch bitter. She wished she could see his face, to discern his thoughts.

"No, I said he wasn't interested in me," she corrected. "He's gay. You're more his type, actually."

Malfoy slowly straightened, looking down at her. Was that… anger… she saw reflected for a moment in those grey depths? He stepped back and held a hand out to her politely, volunteering to help her stand. Almost against her better judgment, she reached out and accepted the proffered help. "Thank you," she murmured civilly, hoping that was the end of the questions.

She slipped her golden shoes back onto her feet, adjusting the straps, and reached for the door handle just as the chimes rang out to announce their time was up. Malfoy's hand and the weight of his arm pushing on the door kept her from opening it, however. She looked up into his face, hoping this wasn't the beginning of his revenge.

"You might want to reconsider, Theo," he advised. "He's got rather… dark tastes… in the bedroom."

Hermione blinked, not understanding.

Draco sighed, looking somewhat defeated. "He's into pain, Granger. He'd love to hurt you."

Before she could stop herself, the words popped from her mouth: "And you wouldn't?"

Very tentatively, his long, pale fingers came into view, heading towards her cheek, stopping just shy of touching her to prevent the rules violation. Eyes like molten silver stared straight into her soul, scorching her with lustful heat. "No, Hermione, I'd much rather make you scream in pleasure."

He eased off the door and she turned, jetting away as quickly as possible, heading for the safety of the couches, wanting to get away from the confusing feelings she was experiencing deep in her heart.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**_

"_**Better to be eaten by the sharks then to sink with the ship**_**" = Meaning, it is better for a person to fight with their last breath and let the sharks at the surface of the water line get at you (in the hopes that you'll be rescued before that point or at least have made every effort to survive for as long as you could), than to allow yourself to give up and simply let the water take you under when the ship sinks beneath your feet.**

**Dog's Tooth Violet – (a.k.a. Katakuri Lily; **_**Erythronium japonicum**_**) Not a violet at all, but a member of the lily family. Endemic to Japan's islands. ****Each plant of the Japanese species has a pair of leaves, and bears a single mauve flower, with backward-flaring petals. Although it hangs its head downward, insects are quickly attracted to the nectar by following the eye-catching marks on the petals. In this fic, I simply made the flower a singing variety for fun.**

'_**Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends'**_**: The Sorting Hat's song about Slytherin's attributes.**

**Because the statistics for this story show that 80+% of my readers are from America, I've decided from here on out to convert the measurements in this story to your system (inches and feet, instead of centimeters and meters). Thank goodness for online calculators!**

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Unusual You" by Britney Spears. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**Nothin' about you is typical.  
Nothin' about you is predictable.  
You got me all twisted and confused.  
(It's so you.)  
Up 'til now, I thought I knew love  
Nothin' to lose and it's damaged 'cause,  
Pattern to fall as quick as I do.  
(But now…)**_

Bridges are burnin',  
Baby, I'm learnin',  
A new way of thinking now.  
Love, I can see  
Nothing will be  
Just like it was.  
Is that because…?

Baby, you're so unusual.  
Didn't anyone tell you, you're supposed to  
Break my heart, I expect you to…  
So why haven't you?  
Maybe you're not even human 'cause,  
Only an angel could be so unusual.  
Sweet surprise I could get used to…  
Unusual you.

Been so many things when I was someone else…  
Boxer in the ring, tryin' to defend myself,  
And the private eye to see what's goin' on.  
(That's long gone.)  
When I'm with you, I can just be myself.  
You're always where you say you will be.  
Shocking, 'cause I never knew love like this  
Could exist.

Tables are turnin',  
My heart is soarin',  
You'll never let me down.  
Answer my call,  
Here after all.  
Never met anyone  
Like you.

Baby, you're so unusual.  
Didn't anyone tell you, you're supposed to  
Break my heart, I expect you to…  
So why haven't you?  
Maybe you're not even human 'cause,  
Only an angel could be so unusual.  
Sweet surprise I could get used to…  
Unusual you.

_**Can't believe that I  
Almost didn't try  
When you called my name.  
Now everything is changed.**_

Baby, you're so unusual.  
Didn't anyone tell you, you're supposed to  
Break my heart, I expect you to…  
So why haven't you?  
Maybe you're not even human 'cause,  
Only an angel could be so unusual.  
Sweet surprise I could get used to…  
Unusual you.


	13. Chapter 3D: Blaise & Ginny

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER**__**: **__User__** "lonely4ashara" **__recommended the song, __**"Let It Rain" by Amanda Marshall **__for Blaise & Ginny this go around. It perfectly reflects Ginny's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to lonely4ashara - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! **I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE (#4): Blaise & Ginny**

By the time Ginny crossed to the room she was condemned to spend the majority of the game locked inside, she had regained a bit of her wits, feeling her defensive walls, which had been temporarily breached, reassemble. Her courage had been _severely_ tested during the first action round, but after long minutes of silent, serious contemplation during this last question phase, she'd had time and some breathing space to turn things over in her head, including her options for the rest of the game.

The conclusion she'd finally come to had been the only logical one to follow: she could not allow her compassion for Zabini's one-sided feelings for her to overrule her common sense. Even having access to his True Wizard's Name had not, in any way, diminished her rival's ability to hurt her, should he choose to – and he had made it abundantly clear that he _would_ do just that, if given the opportunity (the threat of fucking her hard during and after the game being a dead give-away).

She'd have to guard her feelings, toughen them to keep him at arm's length, if possible. It was the only way to retain her sanity.

Because the truth was, sitting across from him on the couch, incredibly, painfully aware of his concentrated focus upon her, she'd discovered in those charged minutes that she'd felt something stirring deep within her for the wizard she'd always thought of as her greatest rival. It wasn't hate, it wasn't revulsion, and it wasn't a simple lust she could just brush aside, either, she unhappily realized. No, it was a _dangerous_ attraction to his darker nature. It lured her in, made her vulnerable, and made her want to discover more of the darkness within herself as well.

Had what that bastard shade of Tom Riddle done to her really fucked her up that badly all those years ago? She'd thought she'd gotten over that, put it behind her, but as she'd lain across Blaise's lap and he'd alternated between spanking and caressing her, offering to make pleasurable for her the one thing that had haunted her nightmares for months after the incident in the Chamber of Secrets, all of those old fears and pains had been dredged to the surface. She'd been shocked and disturbed to feel arousal from such things, but the truth was, she'd almost come as his tongue had lapped so sensually over her arse.

Was that sick or what?

No, Blaise Zabini was off-limits. Ginny might like playing with fire on occasion, but this man wasn't of that same element _at all_. He wouldn't burn her up, so much as crash into her like thunder and drown her in waters of intense need and desire.

The door shut behind her with a loud click in the silent room, and curiously, she could feel his magical aura gathering behind her. She wouldn't move, wouldn't be made afraid. She held his true name now, and could use that if he tried anything sneaky.

His body settled so close into the curves of her back that the hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end. Without a word, his arm came around in front, holding up his card so she could read it.

_**DEED: You get to blindfold your partner and they must guess three things that you let them touch correctly before the blindfold comes off.**_

Just fecking wonderful! He'd probably do something really nasty, like make her put her hands in a bowl of live flobberworms.

Sticking to the silent treatment, she held her card up over her shoulder for his perusal:

_**FORFEIT: Submit to a snog session with your partner. You can't touch them back, except to kiss.**_

Giving him a full minute to digest the ramifications, she tossed her card down to the floor and sighed. "Get it over with, then," she growled. "What's on the menu first? Fresh garden gnome intestines or will it be cold, slimy squid parts? I have six older brothers and they've all played far worse pranks on me, I can assure you."

Without a word, Blaise dropped his card, and into the empty hand popped a black satin blindfold, which he brought up and tied around her eyes.

Against her will, fear took flight in her breast. Going from having sight to losing it in a blink was one of the most frightening experiences a human being could endure, for you were never quite sure what was coming at you, or whether your next step was going to make you plummet to your death. To do so with a man who had made it clear he had every intention of punishing her was truly terrifying.

Ginny swallowed her trepidation, reminding herself over and over that the cards were spelled to prevent him from doing anything that would cause her serious harm. He could and most likely would humiliate her, but she'd survived worse.

To her surprise, a gentle hand guided her across the room, and within a dozen steps, she was being lowered onto a mattress, flat on her back. Her arms were lifted and splayed out to either side so she lay in a 'T' shape. What the hell? Wasn't she supposed to sit in a chair or something? Before she could question her partner, her jacket was unbuttoned and opened, the hem of her dress slipped up to her neck, revealing her barely-there lingerie.

Her trepidation shot closer to full-out panic mode. "What the hell are you doing, Zabini? It better not be anything truly awful! Even you wouldn't be so low as to force yourself on a girl, I'd hope."

She heard a zipper being taken down and the ruffling of discarded clothing, and began panting in real, honest to gods terror. No fucking way! Was he going to rape her? He couldn't. The cards - they would stop him, right?

His big body was suddenly _there_, looming right over her, his aura palpable in her mouth. His knees rested on either side of her legs, and the palms of his hands beside her head. "We're going to perform your card at the same time as mine, kitten," he informed her in a lulling, deep voice that caressed her face with hot breath in its passing.

_Courage_, she reminded herself. _He can't hurt you. He can't hurt…_

Butterfly soft, very tentative lips touched down on hers in a sweet pull that had come and gone before she'd even realized their first kiss had happened. A second touchdown of pillowed gentleness followed, this time lingering a bit. Then, a third and fourth and fifth landed, delaying release a little longer each time. Each kiss was filled with apprehension - the emotion passing between them in equal parts.

If anyone had told her that she would be kissing Blaise Zabini last week, she'd have laughed in their face. If they'd told her his would be the most beautiful series of kisses she'd ever received, so filled with tentative need, she'd have scoffed and thought them mad. If they'd said she would feel those kisses all the way down to her toes, that they would make her doubt her own resolve, and worse, that they would cause an eruption of nervous desire to flare in her belly, she'd have probably had them committed for life. Yet, his kisses had surpassed every possible expectation, and made her begin to drown in him, as she'd feared would happen.

It was almost a relief when he changed the intensity and let his tongue slip into her parting mouth, fully claiming her lips with heat instead. Lust was familiar, and she could easily embrace it.

Except her partner wouldn't let this be simply about his taking what he wanted. Oh no, Blaise Zabini was all about breaking down her will, making her a ready participant in this game of seduction he played with her. The man was genius at it, too. "You taste like honey and sunshine. So addictive and sweet," he very softly murmured, dipping back in for another taste. His expert, pink tongue swept through her mouth, running over every surface, learning the curves and angles and spaces of her moist oral cavern. "Give it to me, my lioness. Taste me back."

She should just lie there and not respond. It would discourage him - force him to quickly get his part over with.

That was what she should have done… but she didn't.

Doubting her own sanity, Ginny did the unthinkable and met his tongue with her own, allowing her lips to pull against his. Golden light flashed beneath her eyelids at the sensation of kissing him back, and her whole body quivered in response.

As if he'd sensed her arousal shooting through her veins, Blaise responded. The groan that was torn from him rumbled through his chest and vibrated into her mouth. His hands thrust into her hair, tangling up in the strands, pulling her face closer. "Yes, my lioness, don't stop!" he hissed, tilting her head to just the right angle for them both to be able to plunder the other. The intensity of their kissing grew into something wild and hot.

Godric's bones, the man could kiss! He positively excelled at snogging her senseless, thoroughly enchanting her in the process.

At some unspoken signal, Zabini pulled back a bit, resting his forehead on hers, his breathing as ragged as hers. "Guess now. What was that?"

It took a few seconds for Ginny's head to clear through the fog of desire to figure out that her companion had asked her for the first of the three things she had to guess. "A… kiss?" she hesitantly answered.

He chuckled. "Not the answer I was looking for. Try again." With that, he dove back in and fiercely reclaimed her lips, re-stoking the flames between them. He was almost relentless now in his sparring with her tongue, twining them around each other and pulling apart again and again, roughly feasting at her mouth. All Ginny could do was hold on for the ride.

When she was once again gasping for more, he pulled away again. "What _was_ that, Ginevra?"

Her heart was pounding, as the heavy weight of knowledge fell upon her. "Us… that kiss… it was us."

"That's right," he purred against her lips. "Slow at first in the learning, growing in strength as time continued, finally clashing - but _always_ backed by mutual desire."

Ginny swallowed, shivering now as an icy grip tightened around her spine. "I don't… desire you."

His mouth glided across her cheek towards her ear. "I told you once already: lies don't become you, kitten," he whispered against the sensitive lobe. Nuzzling her neck, he forced her to turn her head to the side, giving him full access to the hollow of her throat. "You've enslaved me, Ginevra. From the very start, I was yours. Somewhere along the line, my lioness, you became mine as well. You simply refuse to acknowledge the truth."

She shook her head. "No, you've always hated me-"

He nipped her over her pulse, making her gasp, effectively stopping her tirade before it could begin. "I already answered that concern last round, I believe. I don't hate you. I never have."

"You want to hurt me," she argued, clenching her fists and her jaws. "You're doing this now to humiliate me."

His hands cupped her cheek and turned her face back towards him, his tone heated with a touch of anger. "No, I don't want to hurt or humiliate you. What I want is to fuck you until I get you out of my system, to throw off this hold you have over me. You've completely bewitched me, my little Gryffindor." He kissed her, a bruising, fast sucking of lips, pulling away just as quickly as he began. "For two years, you've consumed me, burned me to my very soul. I can't think for want of you most days. This… obsession… it has to end." His forehead dropped to hers again, and his tone became softer, almost anguished. "It's going to finish me if it doesn't end." He kissed her again and again, his distress and torment so obvious in those brandings.

Ginny tried to hold back, not to share in the melding of his mouth to hers, but he never let up, despite her non-participation, kissing her until finally, she relented in her anger and bitterness. As soon as her mouth softened, his assault heated up, and Merlin, did he taste divine! Like lightning and mint rolled together, tingling and electrifying both at the same time.

Blaise was right: she _wanted_ him. Godric help her.

They kissed for a long time. How long, Ginny had no idea, but it was hard not to touch him. Honestly, she had to put her arms under her bum to keep herself from reaching out and grabbing him, as the card was specific in saying she couldn't touch him back when he snogged her senseless.

Eventually, one of his hands untangled itself from her long strands of hair and skimmed down her arm to grab her wrist. Slowly, he brought her fingers up until she was grabbing what she knew to be his thick, long cock. She gasped, tried to tug away, but he held her hand fast. "What's this?" he asked her, and it was clear he was using this as one of his three things to touch.

"Your… penis," she replied evenly, trying to control that quavering in her voice. Gods, he was fucking _huge__!_ He easily rivaled Seamus.

Stroking their hands together gently up and down over his length, Zabini corrected her. "No, try again."

It was oddly erotic to be touching this man whom she considered explosively unsafe, much less learning his shape without sight. Using her fingers, she explored every inch of his silken, velvet length, all the while cataloguing her discoveries, memorizing them. He was hard as iron, not cut, his foreskin pulled back tight and exposing a crown that was quite sizable. Small veins engorged with blood stood out underneath, beginning at his base and working up. His balls were heavy, large, and tautly drawn up. He wasn't shaved, and she let her fingernails play through his tight pubic curls. During her exploration, Zabini moaned a few times, and every time she swiped up his length, his cock twitched against her hand.

"So, what is it, Ginevra?" he asked once more pressing his lips to hers, as he began thrusting his hips in rhythm to her stroking. "Tell me." He coaxed the answer out of her with small kisses.

"Proof of your desire for me," Ginny breathlessly answered, her mouth watering, her mind already wondering naughty things about his taste.

She felt him nod as he claimed another kiss. "Very good, my lioness. You're quickly catching onto this game." He licked her from the vee of her breastbone up to the bottom of her chin. "Are you curious as to how this would feel inside of you?" he asked, gripping her stilling hand, shoving through the tunnel of her fingers, letting his pre-come make the path slippery and pliant.

Merlin help her, she nodded. She was _bloody_ curious to know how something this large would feel inside of her. Her quickie with Seamus had been over and done within minutes, up again a wall, and she'd hardly had any time to enjoy the way he'd split her open before they both came from the excitement of the spur-of-the-moment decision to shag. She wondered what it would be like to be taken slowly, stretched wide inch by torturous inch by someone of this size.

"Would you like to know _now_?" he asked, deceptively mild, although she could feel his body shaking with need against her palm.

Ginny licked her lips, realized what he was hedging at. "No. You'll just shag me, Zabini. Take what you want and not care about my needs."

He lowered himself until his chest touched hers. "And if I promised to make it so good for you that you came the hardest you ever have, would you let us do it then?"

Godric save her from her own stupidity, but Ginny _so_ wanted to fuck Blaise now that she'd tasted his kiss and held the weight of his dick in her hand. But she was no fool. There was no way she'd end up as just some man's cum sponge, thanks. "And after?" she asked, swallowing back her shame and fear. "You'd mistreat me - call me a slag or something equally repulsive."

"You know my True Wizard's Name, Ginevra," he whispered the reminder like a demon in her ear. "You can mistreat _me_ at any time, in or out of this room, tomorrow or ten years from now. I trusted you with such power over me. Trust me now with this. I would make our time good for both of us."

But she didn't trust him, and that was the whole point. Knowing Zabini's TWN was irrelevant; she'd never use it unless he meant to cause her or someone else harm, and they both knew it. She shook her head. "Forget it. You're going to use this against me somehow," she throttled back her passion. She removed her hand from his steely length and tried to push him off her, but he was the greater weight and wouldn't be budged. "I won't be abused by another man, Blaise. I won't! Get off of me!"

Her hands were captured in a tight grip and held down on the bed near her ears. Zabini's weight pinned her hips, preventing her from moving further, and Ginny's heart took off like a jackhammer. "I knew it," she choked in rising hysteria. "I knew you'd do this!"

"Who hurt you?" her partner growled, the anger in his voice a whiplash of vehemence she'd never heard before, shutting her down. "That's the second time you've hinted that someone did something to you. Who hurt you?"

"No, I-" she began, but he cut her off, shaking her hard.

"Don't you dare lie to me, Weasley," he snarled. "When I touched your arse last round, you were positively terrified. I want to know who the bastard was who raped you there."

Ginny went cold and still, inside and out. Her world narrowed down to two words: "_raped you._" No, that didn't fully describe what had been done to her. Add the words 'and torture' after that, and Blaise would be in the right neighborhood then. She thanked the heavens for the blindfold in that moment, because hot tears wavered behind her lids.

"Let me go," she calmly – more calm than she'd thought herself capable of in that moment – requested of him.

Her security was ripped from her head and tossed to the side in an instant, and cursed sight was returned to her. Looking up in numb detachment, Ginny saw something then that she'd never thought possible: Blaise Zabini nearly undone, his face a shattered mask of pain.

"You were raped, weren't you?"

Scalding, wet tracks carved their way down the sides of her face to saturate her hairline.

"Who hurt you, love? Tell me," he bid. "I'll make him pay. I swear it!"

Ginny laughed and it was an ugly, bitter sound. "You can't. He's already dead."

Her partner blinked, narrowed his eyes. "You killed him?"

She shook her head, more tears knocked free by the motion, streaming openly now in rivulets. "No, but I wish with my whole soul that I had."

"Who?" he demanded the name again.

"Why do you care?" she spat back, staring up at him with indignant rage. "It's not as if you haven't hurt me, too!"

Far above, the ceiling changed, becoming a mass of churning, nebulous, wispy dark grey formations that swirled around and around in growing anger. They were storm clouds. Had she unconsciously summoned them, or was this Blaise's doing? She didn't rightly know who deserved the blame this time.

A warm spring rain gently began to fall. Its savagery grew, however, as the seconds ticked by, swelling in intensity to match the rioting battle of emotions between Ginny and her partner. The room, it seemed, could reflect the emotional turmoil of its current occupants. At the moment, it was a squall, complete with sheets of rain, rumbling thunder, and flashes of lightning. Neither she nor Zabini seemed to care about the downpour that drenched them, though, too lost in their fierce staring contest to notice.

"Give me his name," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.

Ginny was no pushover. "I have a better idea: go fuck yourself!"

Blaise's nose touched hers, and his dark eyes were incensed by her defiance. "You _will_ tell me, my lioness," he glacially informed her. "I want the name of the man who hurt you. Dead or alive, I would know it."

Exasperated to the point of violence, Ginny actually snarled behind clenched teeth. "It doesn't bloody matter! I told you, the bastard is dead, and his fucking book was destroyed with him!"

"Book?" Blaise's eyebrows shot downward in confusion. "What the hell does a book have to do with any of this?"

Oh, bloody hell, she'd said too much! She clamped her lips together, refusing to say more.

Blaise stared hard at her, trying to decipher the riddle, but she knew he had no knowledge of what had transpired in her first year, as the story had been neatly covered up by Dumbledore.

A strange glint entered his eye. "I'll tell you another secret, if you tell me this," he offered, but Ginny shook her head. "It's as equally… disturbing… as your secret, Weasley."

"Not bloody likely," she scoffed.

Zabini tilted his head, stared her down and bared another piece of his soul to her. "My first time, it was the end of third year, and I was raped in the showers by two seventh-years."

Ginny pulled a sour face. "Oh, how terrible for you, getting jumped by a couple of older, more experienced chicks-"

"Lucian Bole and Peregrine Derrick," he corrected her. "I was thirteen. Bole _Imperio_'d me and made me suck his cock on my hands and knees while Derrick fucked me hard up the arse. Then they switched. Derrick didn't even have the decency to wash himself off before shoving his dick in my mouth. Bole commanded me to like it all, though, so I moaned in pleasure the whole time and came right along with them. They raped me for over an hour in every position you can think of, casting charms on themselves and me to get us all hard again and again. When they finally tired of me, they left me bloodied, lying in a puddle of my own come, and threatened to kill me if I ever told anyone. You and Draco are the only two people who know, and he knows only because he was the one who found me. I'd have never told him otherwise."

He wasn't lying. There wasn't a smidge of untruth in what he'd just said. She knew that because only another survivor of brutality could relate to that look in the eyes – the haunted, ashamed glint that never quite left you.

"Tom Riddle," she blurted, moved by his confession enough to offer her own.

Blaise's eyebrows lowered. "Who?"

Ginny swallowed. "That was his real name before he changed it… to Lord Voldemort."

Zabini ran a hand over his eyes, wiping away the tears. "As in _THE _Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord who died before either of us was ever born?" Ginny nodded. Her partner sneered. "What the fuck, Weasley? I just bared my soul to you!"

"It was Tom Riddle, I swear to you on my witch's powers," she insisted, putting her freed hand over his lips. "Listen, please. My first year, Malfoy's father snuck Riddle's school diary into my bag when we bumped into him at Flourish & Blotts while getting school supplies. I don't know how the man obtained such a dark artifact, and I didn't know that he'd intentionally slipped it into my possession at the time, but when I got to school, I found it. The diary was magical. It… talked back to me when I wrote in it. I didn't know who Tom Riddle was at the time; I thought he was just a nice ghost haunting the pages, offering up a sympathetic ear. I told him all of my feelings, and he seemed so kind and understanding." Here, her voice faltered, became embittered. "He was using me. He gained control of my mind through my vulnerability. Do you recall all of the messages painted around the castle in blood about the Chamber of Secrets that one year?"

Blaise's gaze turned inward as he thought back, and slowly, he nodded.

"That was me, under Tom's influence. I had no memory of doing it, though," she explained. "He also used me to open the Chamber of Secrets itself, and let loose the Basilisk that was under the castle. That's why there were students who were found petrified. Remember that?"

Again, Blaise nodded.

"It was Tom's doing. He used me to open the Chamber," she continued. "He wanted the Basilisk to roam free and kill. I was helpless to stop him, too much under his power by then. But it was the last time I opened the Chamber that Tom… got to me."

She swallowed heavily and closed her eyes, too ashamed to look upon anyone in this telling. It was easier this way, staring at the black behind her lids. What she wouldn't give for that blindfold once more!

"I was lured down to the Chamber to summon the Basilisk again. Riddle had been slowly using my life energy all year, and as a result, was able to manifest a form for himself – a new body that looked just as he had at the age of sixteen, when he'd created the diary. He wasn't completely solid, but it was enough. He forced me onto my knees. He made me suck him off. He slammed his… _thing_… into my mouth, and made me gag so many times. When he came, it was disgusting! The taste was-"

She shuddered, clenching her back teeth at the memory. She could still smell his awful scent and phantom taste his salty, bitter seed. Just the memory made her want to vomit. It took her several deep gulps of breath to hold down the gorge that rose in her throat, to come back into her own control, and to finish the story.

"Afterwards, he made me take my knickers off and get on my hands and knees, and crawl around for a bit, kissing his feet and groveling. He made me… he made me beg for him to fuck me, and then he-" She licked her lips, sobbed once, tried to control it, but the tears came anyway. "He said he wasn't into girls, but he liked a nice piece of arse. So he took me that way. It hurt. _Oh, Godric, it hurt!_ I screamed inside, begging him to stop, but I couldn't move to stop him. He controlled me. He made me say his name over and over as he… as he thrust into me, and it burned like fire when he finally came. I was only eleven-years-old, and he raped me!" She pressed her hands over her eyes, ashamed, wishing right then to hide herself away in darkness forever and ever. "He threw me to the ground afterwards, told me I'd been a good whore, and it was too bad he needed my energy to make him whole, or else he'd have kept me around. Harry killed him though. He destroyed the diary, and it killed Tom forever. Dumbledore said… he said he couldn't come back to haunt me, but he does. He still haunts me in my head. It'll _never_ be over, no matter how many years pass. It'll never stop hurting. I'll neverstop being afraid of being touched there."

Her sobs were unstoppable now, as waves of agony and humiliation flooded every inch of her soul.

Blaise's hands gently lifted her blinders off, uncovering her eyes, forcing her to face the world. "Look at me, Ginevra," he tenderly charged. "Please, look at me."

It took her another minute to gather her courage, and to pry her beaded lashes apart. The rain above was still falling upon them, but her partner had manoeuvered his body in such a way that he covered her, shielding her from the worst of the storm. His mocha features and rich, coffee-coloured eyes were filled with tenderness as he very gently took her right hand in his warm grasp and led it to his bared left pectoral. He placed the palm against his heart, and the beat was strong, powerful under her fingertips. "What's that?" he asked, staring at her in resigned sorrow.

"Your heart," she whispered, automatically, sniffling.

Blaise shook his head very slowly. "Try again."

They locked gazes – bistre meeting sable, the earth meeting its twilight ending – uncaring that they were both getting soaked to the bone. In that moment, Ginny's greatest fear was realized: she couldn't hide anymore - not from him. She was naked, raw, and defenseless now before this wizard whom she had sworn not an hour ago to never show weakness to again.

But this two-edged sword cut both ways: he couldn't hide from her, either. They were equally exposed - equally frightened of the ramifications of these last few minutes.

Equal.

"_My_ heart," she whispered the correct answer, and her partner solemnly nodded.

The idea was beautiful. It broke through her icy resolve, stabbing straight into her center, filling her up with a flood of emotion that would no longer be denied its release. Desperately grabbing him by the shoulders, Ginny pulled Blaise to her lips, latching onto his mouth hungrily, angrily, joyfully, painfully as she sobbed. "Touch me all over," she begged. "Fill me. Make me forget, Blaise, please."

His hands were everywhere then – in her hair, pulling her clothes off, cupping her naked breasts, gripping her nude hips. When Blaise thrust into her tight, slick passage, burying his hard shaft to the hilt, completely joining them, Ginny broke her mouth from his and cried out. He was so big! Her body hadn't had another since Seamus months ago, and being so abruptly opened up was shocking. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt, however; it was a good fit - utterly filling.

She whimpered from the need to move right away, her internal muscles gripping him, milking and massaging his cock with uncontrollable pulsing as her body adjusted to his size, surrounding him in her wet, welcoming heat. Her new lover held absolutely still though, seemingly content to stay seated within her like this forever. "Just this much," he promised her, holding her clasped to him, his burly arms enclosing her in safety and warmth, sheltering her from the heavy rain that poured down upon them. "I won't ask for more. Just to feel you around me once. It's enough to know you let me have this with you."

They stayed locked together in a delicate, satisfying silence for more long minutes, her thighs cradling him as her knees drew up, her arms clasped around his neck. They kissed with sweet, adoring pulls of lips, shyly watching each other as their mouths came together, pulled away, and swooped in for more. Over and over they repeated and perfected their moves, learning, discovering, and finally understanding each other.

Too soon, the chimes rang out, signaling the end of this action round and breaking the poignancy of the moment. The tinkling sound cut through the thunder and pelting water with the same abrupt notice as glass breaking in a noisy room.

Pulling back onto his elbows, Blaise smoothed the drenched hair from Ginny's face with a gentle touch. "I forfeit my lioness. You've conquered me."

Bereft of his warmth, knowing that if he walked away now, it would be over for them – he would most likely let her go, now that they had come to a union of feelings and could part amicably - Ginny shook her head, desperate to keep him in the game. "You can't. I want this now. You made me want this, Zabini." She gripped his arms and dug her nails into his biceps, clamping her thighs together in a vice-like grip. "Give me a chance to know you - the real you. And... to know more of _this_." To emphasize her need and to enslave him to the idea, she began rocking her hips up and down.

Blaise groaned and his eyes rolled back into his head. "Stop, you'll make me… I'm too close as it is."

She didn't heed him, guiding him in and out with insistent, slow pumping.

"All right, I'll stay!" he conceded, and abruptly pulled out of her to avoid further temptation.

Getting her first full look at his cock made Ginny's body ache to have him back inside. He was magnificent – hung long and heavy and thick, a shade darker than his skin, the head a bit lighter. He jutted outwards towards her, dripping with desire, shiny from her juices. Ginny's stomach and throat both tightened.

"Stop looking at me like that or we're not leaving this room again until we're both satisfied," he warned with a gentle slap to her hip. "Come, my lioness. I'll play the game, just for you."

Hopping off the soaked bed, he held his hand out for her, and helped Ginny regain her feet. As they stood naked and pressed in close, she stared up at him with hunger and need – not just for physical fulfillment, but emotional as well. "Don't burn me, Zabini. If this is just a game to you… if you hurt me, Blaise, I swear on the Founders that I'll never forgive you."

He cupped her cheek and with slow deliberation, swiped his thumb across her kiss-swollen lips. "I'll give you whatever you want, Ginny. I am yours."

Shaken to her core by the naked vulnerability in his eyes, Ginny pressed her cheek to his chest and hugged him.

With a reluctant sigh, he kissed her cheek. "We should go or we'll be late, and be counted out."

They broke apart at the same time, and she bent and retrieved her clothes from where her lover had discarded them. They both redressed hastily. "We'll need a drying charm when we get back out to the couches," she stated the obvious.

Blaise was already at the door, looking positively too enticing in his purple shirt and form-fitting, black slacks for her sanity. Unwittingly, her eyes dropped to his crotch. Merlin, he was hung!

Her partner gave a sinful chuckle, reading her thoughts in her gaze, no doubt. He held his hand out to her. "Come, kitten, before we're both much too tempted to want to leave."

Blushing to the roots of her hair and the tips of her toes, she coughed with embarrassment, and slid her fingers through his as he opened the door for them. The man was entirely too clever and too sexy for any witch to properly maintain her composure. He ought to come with a disclaimer around his neck: "WARNING – this wizard will make you forget the word, 'no'."

_Godric, please don't let this be a mistake_, she silently prayed as she let him lead her back to the others, who had once more beaten them back to the couches.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

******PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter?**

.

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Let It Rain" by Amanda Marshall. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**I have given, I have given and got none.  
Still I'm driven by something I can't explain.  
It's not a cross, it is a choice.  
I cannot help but hear his voice…  
I only wish that I could listen without shame.**_

_**Let it rain, let it rain on me.  
Let it rain, oh let it rain.  
Let it rain on me.**_

_**I have been a witness to the perfect crime.  
I wipe the grin off of my face to hide the blame.  
It isn't worth the tears you cry,  
To have a perfect alibi.  
Now I'm beaten at the hands of my own game.**_

_**Let it rain, let it rain on me.  
Let it rain, oh let it rain.  
Let it rain on me.**_

_**It isn't easy to be kind,  
With all these demons in my mind.  
I only hope one day I'll be free.**_

_**I do my best not to complain.  
My face is dirty from the strain.  
I only hope one day I'll come clean.**_

_**Rain, let it rain on me.  
Let it rain, oh let it rain.  
Let it rain on me.**_

_**Come take my hand,  
We can walk to the light.  
And without fear,  
We can see through the darkest night.**_

_**Rain, rain on me.  
Let it rain, oh let it rain.  
Let it rain on me.**_


	14. Chapter 3E: Harry & Tracey

**_CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER_****_: _**_User** "izumizoom" **recommended the song, **"It's Gonna Be Love" by Mandy Moore **for Harry & Tracey this go around. It perfectly reflects Tracey's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to izumizoom - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! **I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!

p.s. Thanks again Unseenlibrarian for the beta! You rock!

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter?**

* * *

**_CHAPTER THREE (#5): Harry & Tracey_**

Tracey looked about her as she stepped back into the room that she and Harry had previously occupied. Last round, he'd kindly changed the colours to a matching theme, hoping to put her at ease. It had been a sweet effort, but Slytherin green, silver, and black had never actually soothed her spirit. She hadn't wanted to ruin his gift, however.

Now she wanted to give back.

With a thought, the colour scheme changed to Gryffindor reds and oranges.

Closing the door behind her, Harry took one look around and laughed. "Nice, but a gold leather couch? I feel like I'm in a disco lounge."

"Dis-co?" Tracey asked, shaking her head, not recognizing the word. It must be a Muggle term. "What's that?"

Harry seemed to consider her for a moment, and then looked to the ceiling. Suddenly, the lights went down, and a strange, rotating ball of silvery mirrors appeared in the middle. It reflected bright shards of light as it moved, discombobulating her for a moment. The sound of strange music filled the air around them – music with a catchy beat that encouraged the body's natural inclination towards gyration.

Tracey felt a smile overtake her cheeks.

"Intriguing. I assume you're meant to dance to that… noise?"

Her partner chuckled and gave her a sheepish grin. "I'm afraid it was considered the perfect hook-up music at one time by Muggles. I think I prefer something quieter, myself."

She nodded. "Indeed." With a thought, the weird crystal ball and music were gone, and she replaced them with soft instrumental lounge-jazz.

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he grinned. "Nice." He held up his card then. "So, what did you get this time around?"

Tracey sighed and read her card:

**_FORFEIT: Stand up now and tell the whole group something true about you that is a secret – one no one else knows._**

"Everyone ran out before I could think up something good," she shrugged. "I'll have to try after, I suppose."

Harry gave her a rather serious assessment, then. He lifted a hand as if to adjust his non-existent glasses, stopped at the last second as he remembered he wasn't wearing his spectacles, and switched his intended action, rubbing the back of his neck instead. "Well, I suppose you could tell me here for practice, if you wanted. I don't mind if you don't."

Tracey blushed and looked down at her feet. There was only a small handful of secrets that she kept close to her heart, and of them all, there was only one that she felt she could confess right here and now in front of this man without having him think too badly of her. But would he think it too… queer? Maybe a tad stalker-ish, even?

Now that the idea had taken root in her brain, the compulsion to tell him the secret became overwhelming. She assumed it to be the spell upon the cards, as she'd been warned by Malfoy earlier that they could compel you to be truthful.

Struggling for a moment to come up with the right way to say it, so it didn't sound too odd, she pursed her lips and practiced the declaration in her head first.

"Or not," Harry generously offered when it was clear she wasn't quite ready to fess up yet. "You don't have to. I don't want to push you."

Oh, dear. He'd misunderstood her silence. One of Tracey's biggest perceived flaws was her inadequacy in conveying her thoughts in a timely and proper fashion. It seemed she'd have to correct that misconception.

"No, no, I don't mind telling you my secret. I was just thinking of a good way to say it so you wouldn't think me… well… strange."

"Want to sit? Might make it easier," he suggested, indicating the couch with a sweep of his hand.

Tracey nodded and headed for the sofa, resuming her previous seat. Harry took the cushion next to her. With a silent command, the hearth lit up once more, casting magical shadows across both of them.

She took a moment more to gather her thoughts. Could she really do this? She swallowed down her trepidation. "All right, but you have to promise not to think me… mad."

Harry put his right hand over his heart, and held the other up at his side, palm towards her. "I swear I will not think you a candidate for the nuthouse."

A giggle bubbled up and burst from between her lips before she could stop it.

How was it that this wizard could always make her smile, even when she was under pressure?

"Okay, well… you see… that is to say…" she stammered, "I wasn't supposed to be sorted into Slytherin House."

The shocked silence that greeted that pronouncement lasted all of two seconds.

"Why not?" her partner asked.

Oh, Merlin, here it came.

"Well, um… I asked the Sorting Hat to…" She stalled, putting a hand over her eyes in mortification. "Oh, I can't say it! You're going to think me totally weird! Oooh, why did I pick _this _secret?"

"You want one of mine instead? I've got a pocketful of them," Harry teased, and this caused her to peek through her fingers at him. At the goofy look on his face, she burst into nervous giggles again.

He reached into his trouser pocket and pretended to extract something, holding it out to her. "This one here, it's going to tell you that I've always hated the whole 'Boy Who Lived' reputation, that I never felt I'd measure up to it, and that all I ever wanted was to be normal."

He feigned depositing the secret into her lap, then reached into the opposite pocket and pulling out another. "This one will tell you that I don't really want to go to the dance next Friday night with my ex-girlfriend, Ginny. Don't get me wrong – she's a fantastic girl, but… I only asked her because she was 'safe' and familiar, and I'm sure she knows that, too. It makes me feel like I'm using her, but I don't want to go alone, either. I don't like myself for being so cowardly like that."

Again, he turned over into her care this private information, and reached back into his left pocket for yet another confidential moment. "This one, it'll tell you that I hold back when I cast spells, because I'm afraid of hurting someone." He looked at her solemnly now, all teasing aside. "I've got darkness in me, Tracey. Every time I lift my wand to cast an offensive spell in D.A.D.A., I feel it fighting to get out. It takes willpower not to give in." This time, he closed his hand around the "secret," not releasing it to her, as if symbolically afraid of it tainting her somehow with just its revelation.

With more courage than she'd thought possible, Tracey reached out and gently grabbed his wrist in both hands, prying open his fingers. "I'm not afraid of that secret, Harry. You can share it with me. I promise to treat it with respect, and not to judge you for it."

Grass-green eyes measured her sincerity. To her surprise, they contained a vulnerability she hadn't expected, and a wariness that went soul deep. Her heart thumped hard in her chest in response to seeing such guardedness.

Swallowing her pride, Tracey decided then and there that she would not let him be the only one emotionally exposed tonight. He'd given up something painful, so it was her turn to reciprocate. She could do this!

"My secret is that I asked the Sorting Hat to put me in whatever House you were going to be assigned."

His lids flared, and his mouth dropped open in astonishment. "_Me?_ Why?"

Feeling the heat crawl up her face, she looked down at their still-connected hands. "It has to do with how we met. See, before school began in first year, we bumped into each other in Diagon Alley. I don't know if you remember that?"

He shook his head.

"That's okay. I remember enough for the both of us."

She smiled at the recollection as she called up the memory, letting her fingernail trace over the palm of his hand in nonsensical patterns in an effort to soothe him. "You were coming out of Ollivander's, your new wand in hand, and you were focused on it with so much happiness. I was just getting ready to go in, but had paused at the bottom step. I was afraid to go in, because, well... I was worried that no wand would want me." She _tsk'd_. "Oh, I know it's silly to think that now, in retrospect, but at the time, my magical ability wasn't all that great, honestly, and I thought that no wand would possibly want to be owned by such a pathetic witch." She glanced up at him through her lashes. "But the look on your face… you were so enraptured with your gift, Harry, like it was the most amazing thing ever. I suddenly wanted to know that feeling, too. I wondered if being the owner of a wand would, somehow, make me a better magic user." She patted his hand. "Without meaning to, it was you who encouraged me to take that first step into the shop, Harry."

"Really?" He seemed amazed at the revelation.

She chuckled softly in amusement, her smile widening as she saw he was intrigued by her story. "Yes, really. You didn't even see me standing in your path when you walked right into me, you know. It was one of those moments easily forgiven and forgotten as two people pass each other. Only… I didn't forget. It was an important moment in my life, because that was when I first finally accepted that I _could_ be a witch, if I wanted it enough."

"You asked the Sorting Hat to put you in my House because of that?" he asked, somewhat awed.

Trailing her gaze up his arm to his shoulder to his throat, following the curve of his neck to his jaw and then to his eyes – those eyes she'd fallen into time and again without his knowledge – she felt her bravado bolstered. "No, not just for that. I saw you again on the platform for the train later, and watched you run through the wall to get to the right place. Again, I was afraid to do it, it being my first time, but when I saw you try it despite your obvious trepidation, it was like the wand shop all over again. I thought to myself, 'I can do that, too!' So, I ran at the wall the same as you, and when I came out the other side, there was the Hogwarts Express waiting for me!"

She shook her head in wonder. "That was twice you'd leant me your courage, Harry, and we hadn't even been properly introduced."

With a teasing grin, Tracey let him go, sitting back into the couch, leaning her cheek against the cushion. "I didn't know who you were until I heard Malfoy announce your name once we got to the school, though. I admit I was a bit starstruck. You were cute, had been something of an inspiration to me, and you seemed so nice and courageous, sticking up for Ronald Weasley like you did, and in the face of someone like Draco Malfoy, who had already established himself the alpha of our year on-board the train. I realized then that I wanted to be your friend. I thought that maybe you could teach me how to be braver, like you."

She sighed somewhat sadly, as she comprehended that she'd never actually learned that lesson throughout all their formative years. Being as daring and fearless as a Gryffindor seemed a bit out of reach for her in general, even though she'd desperately wanted to be that way in her heart.

"That's why, when my name was called by Professor McGonagall, and I went up to the Hat before you, I was really nervous. I didn't know what House you'd be sorted into, so I asked it to put me wherever you were going to be sent. It wanted to send me to Hufflepuff based on my own merits, but I insisted on being sent with you." She frowned. "I was confused and upset when it sent me to Slytherin, because I knew you'd most likely go to Gryffindor. You were brave, not sneaky. At the time, I thought the Hat sent me to the opposite House as a way of punishing me for being so insistent on getting my way."

To her surprise, Harry shook his head. "The Hat was _trying_ to send me to Slytherin," he admitted. "And I would have gone there, except I did the same thing you did, and insisted that the Hat send me to any House _other than_ Slytherin. I knew Voldemort" -Tracey cringed, hearing the cursed name- "had come from there, and didn't want to go to the same House. I wanted to go wherever my parents had been placed." He rubbed the back of his head and sighed disconsolately. "But I think the Hat was right. There's a part of me that belongs in Slytherin. If I'd kept my mouth shut, I know I would have been sent there."

He looked at her, an apology in his gaze. "I'm sorry you ended up in the wrong House."

Tracey considered his words and her past situation, coming to a startling revelation in that moment. "It wasn't your fault, Harry. I think, maybe, the Hat might have gotten it right. After all, if I hadn't been sent to Slytherin then, I wouldn't have been invited to play this game with you now, and we wouldn't have this opportunity to know each other better."

She smiled at him, as the truth finally hit her: yes, this was destiny.

His return smile was gentle. Slowly, he reached out for her hand, as it lay limply on the couch between them. Holding her hand firmly as he regained his feet, he pulled her up with him, stepping into her at the same time as he drew her forward. Tracey's heart slammed under her ribs as she found herself suddenly face-to-face with her wizard.

"Dance with me again," he bid, a teasing smile inching up his face. "Before you get to tie me up and feed me dessert."

Tracey nodded at the same time as another giggle burst from between her lips. "Is that what your card is this turn?"

He nodded, reciting his card for her verbatim from memory:

**_FORFEIT: Let your partner feed you the dessert of your choice. You must be tied up during the feeding._**

They both laughed and Tracey inched her arms up and around Harry's neck. "Oh, my, I'm going to need to borrow that courage of yours again, I think."

Hesitantly, as if he were unsure of the action, Harry's fingers caressed her cheek. "Any time."

She considered that offer, grabbed a hold of it. "Okay, then… I'm going to choose the song this time," she decided with a measure of boldness.

Harry acquiesced easily with a slight nod.

With a single thought - she knew just the right song - a sultry beat and bass guitar, accompanied by a lyrical, crooning woman's voice, mimicking the early 60's R&B romantic classics, began as one of Tracey's favorite romantic songs, "The Nightingale," as sung by Julee Cruise, played from the ether about them.

**_The nightingale, it said to me_****_  
_****_there is a love meant for me._**

**_The nightingale, it flew to me_**  
**_and told me that it found my love._**

Harry's hands smoothed up her arms, over her shoulders, and then followed the path back down, barely touching the curve of the outsides of her breasts as they glided to her waist.

"Hold me closer this time," she whispered to him, reaching for her 'inner lioness' - the one she had run from for far too many years.

Her partner didn't reply, but he did lick his lips, and the action drew her attention, made her aware of how close they stood as his fingers splayed around her back and pulled her into intimate contact with his rock-hard body. They fit perfectly, nearly nose-to-nose.

Tracey felt she could have died in that moment a very happy witch.

**_He said, "One day, I'll meet you._**  
**_Our hearts will fly with the nightingale."_**

**_The nightingale, he told me_**  
**_one day you will be with me._**

"How is it that we never met before?" he murmured the question against her cheek as he leaned forward and let his nose brush alongside hers.

"I was too shy," she replied in a hushed tone. "But I always knew you were there, Harry. From the very start, I saw you."

**_The nightingale said he knew_**  
**_that your love would find my love one day._**

**_My heart flies with the nightingale,_**  
**_through the night, all across the world._**

"You joined this game for me, didn't you?" he asked, pulling back a bit, his piercing emerald eyes staring into her very soul, tearing away all her defensive walls with ease.

Tracey's cheeks grew hot, and she looked down, unable to take the intensity of his knowing stare. "Yes." She swallowed in nervousness and closed her eyes. "I admit that I hoped so much… that before we left here… that you would see me, too. Just once."

**_I long to see you…_****_  
_****_to touch you…_****_  
_****_to love you…_****_  
_****_forever more._**

A hand left her hip, and she despaired. He was going to step away from her now. She'd said too much. He thought her a weird stalker now, didn't he? Just as she'd always feared, she'd ruined this chance by not being more reserved like a Slytherin…

Two fingers lifted her chin, forcing her not to cower. Opening her eyes to face the music, she was shocked to see Harry's face hovering closer. "I see you now, Tracey," he whispered. His mouth buzzed just above hers, and their eyelashes both feathered down at the same time. "May I kiss you?"

"Yes," she sighed happily, her heart fluttering with joy.

His lips landed softly down upon hers, so chaste, gentle, and sweet. It was her very first kiss, and it was perfect.

When he pulled back almost immediately, she followed, unwilling to let this end, wanting more of him. "Don't stop," she pleaded on a whisper, unsure where she was getting the mettle, but grabbing on desperately to such reckless courage. "Kiss me again, Harry."

**_The nightingale said he knew_****_  
_****_that your love would find my love one day._**

**_My heart flies with the nightingale,_**  
**_through the night, all across the world._**

**_I long to see you…_****_  
_****_to touch you…_****_  
_****_to love you…_****_  
_****_forever more._**

His arms wrapped around her, pulled them together until there was no space for the light to pass, and his mouth bent to hers again. This time the kiss was open-mouthed and filled with enticing fire. Tracey lost herself to it and him, and they moved with a natural grace together, not awkward in the slightest, both giving and taking beautifully as if this were something they had practiced together a thousand times.

It felt _so_ _right_.

Harry groaned, and the sound vibrated through his chest and passed into hers, bringing a shivering thrill that caused goosebumps to stand out on her arms and her belly to quiver with anticipation. She moaned in response, and this caused an instant reaction in him, making him go hard against her abdomen through his trousers. It felt wickedly delicious to feel the weight of his... _thing_... rubbing the satin of her dress against the skin of her tummy.

When he French kissed her, she started, but then melted into this new sensation, too. Tentatively, she met his tongue with her own, caressing lightly, testing, and learning his flavour. As he swept into her mouth and sampled every corner, she moaned and pressed the entire length of her body against his. His tongue tangled up with hers, twining and pulling apart in an erotic dance that left her weak-kneed.

"Oh, _Merlin_," he mumbled against her lips. "You taste so sweet, like honeysuckle."

Tracey's head was whirling, swirling, dizzied as her world tipped end over end. She thrust her hands into Harry's hair and held tight, kissing him with every bit of feeling that she had for him in her heart, holding nothing of herself back.

His hands were suddenly on her hips, slowly dragging and bunching her dress up, as he pressed her core against his erection and rubbed them together.

Her startled gasp seemed to break through the haze of passion and return a bit of sanity to the moment.

"Merlin, Tracey, you're bringing me to my knees here," he told her, pulling back, breaking their kiss. Panting huffs of hot air blasted against her throat as he rubbed his forehead against her shoulder. "We need to stop. I'm losing control."

But Tracey didn't want to stop. She wanted it all. She wanted to give this man everything she had. But she understood, too, that they were moving incredibly fast. She wanted this thing between them to unfold slowly over the course of the coming hours, so they could cherish every revelation of each other before getting down to making love.

Clearly, they were as chemically compatible as she'd always hoped, though. That was a huge relief. She'd harbored a secret fear that he wouldn't want her with the same intensity as she felt for him, but apparently, that wouldn't be a problem. Thank Slytherin. Or Merlin. Or whoever was responsible.

Nuzzling her nose into his neck – his cologne smelled like dark spices and the woods, enchanting her – Tracey let out a small sigh of contentment.

Her wizard lifted his head and stared down at her, a lopsided, embarrassed grin touching his cheeks. "Sorry. I didn't mean to push but-" He shook his head in amazement. "Witch, you certainly know how to kiss a bloke so that he forgets his own name! Wow."

The hidden siren within Tracey stretched and sat up in satisfaction at the compliment to her new skill. He thought she kissed well!

Her shyness returned a moment later, though as humility took over. "Um… shall I tie you up now?"

Harry froze, clearly taken aback. "Wh-what?"

Tracey realized how her question sounded and felt a flush of embarrassment roll over her. Putting her hands on her cheeks, she closed her eyes. "Oh, I meant… I didn't mean… Your card!"

Gods, could she have made any bigger a mess of that one?

_Stupid, stupid!,_ she silently berated herself.

Her partner's chuckle was dark and rather wicked as he caught onto her meaning in a quick minute. He closed the distance between them again and captured her hands, pulling them away. Bending to her lips again, he murmured, "You can certainly tie me up now. I wouldn't mind." He kissed her again, a quick, chaste peck. "I like treacle tarts best."

_I know_, she thought.

He relinquished his hold on her, giving her space to breathe, and with a mental thought, a small café table with two chairs appeared in front of the fire, replacing the sofa. On its top sat a small, covered plate containing a small pile of his favourite dessert pastry, a fork, a napkin… and what looked like white velvet rope. Harry practically glided into one of the chairs and held his wrists out to her, hands fisted together.

Tracey nearly had a heart attack at the visual of what she was about to do to him. Could she really tie him up? A nervous giggle overtook her, and slipped from her lips as she reached for the rope. "I can't believe I'm going to do this," she muttered, feeling her blood rush through every vein in her body with heat.

"You mean you've never tied a partner up before?" he asked, a little amazed.

Heat… rising…

Was it possible to faint from blushing too much?

"Um, no," she admitted quite honestly. "Is there some sort of special way to do this?"

Harry shook his head. "Just make a normal knot, but not too tight."

As Tracey began winding the rope about his wrists, once, twice, three times and then tied it off in a bow, he laughed.

"What? It's okay, isn't it?" she asked, self-conscious. It was, after all, her first time lashing a man down.

"It's fine. The bow's a cute touch, though."

Oh, well, it _was_ a tad childish, wasn't it?

"Want me to do it over?" she offered. "Or I could tie you to the chair, instead, if you want."

Her partner's laugh came out as half choked. "Uh, no. This is fine." He looked up at her and shook his head, giving her a goofy grin. "I think I've created a monster."

Now he was making fun of her.

She huffed at that, looking at him through narrowed lids, and took her seat next to him, lifting the cover on the plate. "Keep laughing at me, and I might accidentally drop a tart into your lap, you know."

Harry busted out laughing, full and long, his face turning an interesting shade of red. "Yeah, definitely a monster," he gasped between breaths.

It took Tracey a second to catch the double _entendre _in her previous words. Tart… lap. Oh, Merlin, she really was green!

Lifting the fork, she realized that cutting the tarts would be difficult, because of the shortbread crust. So, instead, she just lifted one with her fingers, hoping Harry wouldn't mind, and headed for his mouth. "Oh, do quit laughing at my naiveté and open up."

Her wizard gazed at her through mirthful, green eyes and smirked, "Yes, ma'am." He opened up and she gently fed him his favourite treat, catching the crumbs in his napkin, which she lifted under his chin. She watched with delight as his eyes lit up with pleasure and his smile shifted from playfully mocking to blissfully gratified. He let out a small moan in happiness. "Merlin, I love this stuff!"

Whichever player had invented this _Forfeits_ card, Tracey was infinitely thankful to him or her in that moment.

She held out a second helping for him, and as he made quick work of it, he gave her a devilish waggle of his eyebrows. "Wanna try some, too?"

Tracey looked at the half-bitten tart in her hand. "I suppose so."

She started raising the dessert to her lips, but his bound hands stopped her. "That's not what I meant," he clarified, leaning forward and kissing her, slipping his tongue into her mouth again, sharing the residual sugary decadence of the delicacy with her. As he pulled back, he gave her a smoldering look. "That's more like it. Every time you feed me, I'd like you to kiss me, so I can share this with you."

Tracey's whole body was thrumming, her heart rabbiting behind her ribs. "Okay," she agree on a shaky breath.

They finished off the dessert just like that: her feeding him with her fingers, then leaning forward to swipe her tongue over his lips to taste the lingering buttery-ginger taste that was left behind. Twice he grabbed her fingers between his lips and held on, sucking with light pressure. At some point in the middle, he reached for her and coerced her onto his lap so that they could actually cuddle - after getting her permission, of course.

When the chimes rang out not too long after, signaling the end of their time together, they'd gotten though four tarts, a long series of sticky, delicious kisses, and he even ran his fingers over her knees. For Tracey, it had been an incredibly erotic and romantic experience overall.

As she got off his lap and untied him, Harry rose to his full height and moved in on her before she could react. He thrust his strong hands into her long hair, pulling her into his embrace once more. "Oh, man, I'm gonna fall for you, aren't I?" he asked just before his lips touched down on hers again.

Although she knew it had been a rhetorical question, Tracey answered him anyway as soon as he pulled away. "Then we'd be even," she whispered, her voice trembling upon her admission.

"Oh, hell… I _am so_ going to fall for you," he stated rather decisively and lunged back in for another spine-tingling, breath-stealing snog.

In between kisses, she reminded him of their time limit. Harry grunted in understanding, but couldn't be bothered to stop kissing her. Instead, he simply picked her up in those powerful arms of his and walked them to the door. Tracey held on for dear life. He set her back on her feet to reach for the door handle, but didn't stop kissing her even as he opened the portal out of their private chambers. He smooched her as she stepped back and out of the room, and immediately, he pushed her into the wall on the other side, never breaking physical contact.

It wasn't until they heard Ron and Pansy laughing as the two escaped their quarters down the way that her partner pulled his head up. Tracey's heart beat fiercely with joy and desire, threatening to burst sunshine rays of happiness all over the place. What had she ever done that was so good in her life to deserve this chance? It was like a magical miracle - a fairytale come true.

"Snogging on a second date is okay, right?" he asked, breathless.

Tracey thought her face would crack from all the smiling she was doing. "Yes, definitely. Kissing me goodbye at the door was a nice touch. A perfect ending to this date."

Harry kissed her yet again, then pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. "Good. So… see you for our third date in a few minutes, then?"

She nodded eagerly and clasped his fingers in hers, giving them a light squeeze. "Absolutely."

Inside her chest, her heart twirled and danced.

* * *

**_TO BE CONTINUED..._**

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**_Musical Selection this Chapter: "It's Gonna Be Love" by Mandy Moore. Lyrics are as follows…_**

**_It's gonna be me, baby._****_  
_****_It's gonna be you, baby._**

**_Time, I've been patient for so long._**  
**_How can I pretend to be so strong?_**  
**_Looking at you, baby…_**  
**_Feeling it's you, baby…_**  
**_If I'm asking you to hold me tight,_**  
**_Then it's gonna be all night._**

**_It's gonna be love!_**  
**_It's gonna be great!_**  
**_It's gonna be more than I can take!_**  
**_It's gonna be free!_**  
**_It's gonna be real!_**  
**_It's gonna change everything I feel!_**  
**_It's gonna be sad!_**  
**_It's gonna be true!_**  
**_It's gonna be me, baby!_**  
**_It's gonna be you, baby!_**  
**_It's gonna be..._**  
**_It's gonna be LOVE!_**

**_Time, am I restless or a fool?_**  
**_How can you pretend to be so cruel?_**  
**_Maybe it's me, baby._**  
**_Maybe it's true, baby._**  
**_Maybe it's everything we're dreaming of?_**  
**_We've waited long enough!_**

**_It's gonna be love!_**  
**_It's gonna be great!_**  
**_It's gonna be more than I can take!_**  
**_It's gonna be free!_**  
**_It's gonna be real!_**  
**_It's gonna change everything I feel!_**  
**_It's gonna be sad!_**  
**_It's gonna be true!_**

**_It's gonna be you're the one to do!_****_  
_****_It's gonna be me, baby._****_  
_****_It's gonna be you, baby._**

**_The sooner you let two hearts beat together,_**  
**_The sooner you'll know this love is forever._**  
**_It's gonna be love!_**  
**_Love needs time now or never._**  
**_It's gonna be love!_**  
**_It's gonna be tough!_**  
**_You really gotta believe._**  
**_It's gonna be strong enough!_**

**_It's gonna be love!_**  
**_It's gonna be great!_**  
**_It's gonna be more than I can take!_**  
**_It's gonna be free!_**  
**_It's gonna be real!_**  
**_It's gonna change everything I feel!_**  
**_It's gonna be sad!_**  
**_It's gonna be true!_**  
**_It's gonna be you're the one to do!_**  
**_It's gonna be hard!_**  
**_It's gonna be tough!_**  
**_It's gonna be more than just enough!_**  
**_It's gonna be LOVE!_**

**_It's gonna be LOVE!_**


	15. Chapter 3F: Theodore & Daphne

**__****CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **_User_**__**** "CeriseAnouk" **_recommended the song, **"I Get Off" by Halestorm **for Theodore & Daphne this go around. It perfectly reflects Daphne's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to CeriseAnouk - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! ****I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

_**P.S. Unseenlibrarian** betas better than my own editor for my publications! She also gives AWESOME plot advice (the HAWT, YUMMY, DELICIOUS description of Theo below - you can thank her for that idea)._

_**P.S.S.** The next update for Chapter 4 won't come until late next week. I *have* to get out the next chapter of "Three" and "I'd Rather Be In Love" (and maybe even "To Begin Again") before anymore of this fic goes up. Please don't throw garden gnomes at me! *begs your indulgence*_

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter? Were you feeling the HAWTNESS or did it fizzle for you? Where would you like to see Theo-Daphne go next?**

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE (#6): Theodore & Daphne**

Daphne could feel Theo's angry stare burning into her as she made her way across the main room towards their private one, trying to calm the nervousness in her stomach. The truth was she'd thrown this last round of questions because Theo had promised to give her his card this round. She knew he didn't understand, but in the way of Slytherins, she wasn't about to volunteer such information in front of the others (as Potter and Davis had!). She'd hold her tongue on the matter until they were alone.

As soon as she crossed over the threshold and into "their room," Daphne turned and silently awaited her partner's presence, going through the mental exercises she'd perfected over the years to perform her expected part well. Settling her hands before her, folded over her abdomen and affecting an indifferent expression, she watched as Theo came into the room and shut the door behind him. Leaning his back against the smooth, white-painted wood, he turned a hardened gaze towards her.

Grabbing her courage, Daphne crossed to him and held out her hand for his card. Would he really give it to her, or had those just been words said in the heat of the moment? Would he renege now that he was truly angry with her? Although there were days she believed she knew this wizard better than he knew himself – she had spent years watching and listening to him, when he'd been rather oblivious to her scrutiny – Theo could, on occasion, prove to be rather unpredictable. It was an admirable trait for a Slytherin, but not much of one for a boyfriend, and sometimes, that random impulsiveness made her honestly nervous.

Now would be a perfect example.

Her handsome partner – he truly made her knees weak when he turned the full force of those baby blues on her! - looked at her outstretched palm, considered it, and to her relief, lifted his arm and dropped his card into her waiting hand. He made sure not to touch her in the transfer, though, she noted.

Pretending to read the card, she instead glanced through her lashes at him, saw the confusion and ire reflected in equal parts and knew that he wasn't just angry; he'd been hurt by her coolly affected distance. She should correct his misunderstanding immediately, knowing that otherwise his volatile temper could blow up this issue, making things rather unpleasant between them. She tapped the card against her other hand, and gave him the full weight of her gaze. "Now that we are effectively dissociated from the others, Theo, I will deign to answer the previous _Interrogations_ question for you," she stated, going for poised and unruffled.

Theo's eyes widened in shock and sudden understanding, his luscious mouth parting in surprise.

"I would desire you," she explained succinctly, and put her arms behind her back, indicating that the matter was self-explanatory.

He blinked twice, his face narrowing in suspicion immediately, as she'd expected. "And your other partners? The card did specify three to five."

She considered the best alternative to answer, and decided that this time his ego could use the boost that the truth would provide. "No others, Theo. Just you and me." She'd purposefully maintained full eye contact when she dropped that on him, so he would see that there was no lie behind her words. It was a rare enough presentation by a Slytherin that she knew he would understand her sincerity this time.

"Wow, you're serious," he acknowledged, flabbergasted, dropping his guard. "You totally threw me out there. And after the end of last round… well, you just seemed uninterested. Sucked to think that, because… well, I told you, Daphne, that I like this, what we're doing."

Daphne allowed some heat to leak out, letting him see her desire for him for the briefest of moments as reflected by eager eyes and licking lips. "Theo, you _know_ I want to bed you." Wrapping herself in the act of the tigress on the prowl once more, she stalked across the room towards him, letting her hips sway gracefully, knowing how the dress would flow over her alluringly and draw his awareness to all the right places. As she anticipated, Theo's eyes darkened with lust with every step closer she took towards him. That she could affect him so made her feel powerful and beautiful. Stopping as their bodies almost touched, she leaned both arms against the door and trapped him between, standing on tiptoe to bring her lips in line with his. "I believe I espoused this particularly ambitious appetite for you last action round, but perhaps you require a more… gratifying… elucidation to that effect?"

Allowing the commanding influence she wielded over him to fill her up gave Daphne the confidence she needed to follow through with this plan of hers. Although Theo might be seeing a huntress approaching, deep inside her heart, Daphne had to remind herself continuously, anxiously to remain cool, impassive, and in control, or else she knew Theo's natural personality and charisma would dominate her utterly. He was a man who was known to discard women as easily as pieces of used parchment, and Daphne had no intention of becoming just another notch on his bedpost. She wanted this wizard for keeps, and the only way to achieve that was to be different from all of the others; to give him the one thing his heart truly desired, and that he couldn't get from anyone else or in quite the same way: complete sexual fulfillment. Theodore Nott was a creature ruled by physical pleasure, she well knew by observation, and nothing less that the ultimate experiences in this realm would ensnare his heart. It was a prize she had given up so much to obtain over the last two years, and so she would not squander this chance. She would use this game of Malfoy's to finally achieve her greatest wish.

"I would open your mind and body to the thrill of continuous, multiple orgasms without ejaculation," she explained, nodding knowingly, cutting off his confused protest. "Oh, yes, Theo, it is _quite_ possible for a man to achieve this, I assure you." She threw him her wickedest smirk, and was rewarded by his larynx bobbing up and down in a heavy swallow. "I would also teach you the intense ecstasy and intimacy of tantric sex," she explained, stepping into the curves of his body, careful not to touch until permission had been granted to prevent a violation of the rules. "But, in order to achieve such lofty goals, my overly-zealous partner, you much first recognize the burning ache that is nurtured under the heavy hands of patience, honesty and restraint – three skills you fundamentally lack. It is this that holds you back from being a fantastic lover, my Theo." She let her eyes linger on his lips, and then licked her own purposefully, hoping for a physical response. She received it in the form of his sudden, steel erection pressing through his trousers and her dress against her inner thigh. "Would you like me to instruct you in such things, my beloved?"

From the sparkle in his eye and the blooms of color on his cheeks, Daphne knew she had him. Theo was putty in her paws now – where he needed to be if this was to work between them. He nodded vigorously and licked his own lips. "Yes, _oh, gods, _yes! Teach me everything you know, Daphne."

"Say aloud that you'll let me touch you anyway I want tonight with my hands or mouth or… with toys," she commanded then, stepping back, taking full control. She held his card out to him so he could put his shaking fingers on it. "Agree that this same proviso lasts until the end of the game, so we won't need to repeat it each round."

He nodded his head, brown-gold hair falling into his eyes, shaken loose from his excitement. "I allow you, Daphne, to touch me anyway you want for the remainder of this game. Use your hands, your mouth, any other body part you want, and any fun toys on me – I consent to it all. I agree to this for every round until the game ends."

Despite the lack of magical or oratory fanfare to accompany his claim, Daphne knew that the cards would now respect Theo's declaration. "Excellent," she smiled like the cat that had swallowed the canary, and read his card aloud for them both one more time:

_**DEED: Tie up your partner and paddle them lightly. **_

She then read her card aloud to him:

_**FORFEIT: Your partner gets to lick any part on your body of their choice. You cannot touch them.**_

Theo's eyes lit up and he let out a deep, quavering breath. "_Fucking awesome_," he hissed. "Your wish is my command, My Queen." He got down on his knees before her and bent his head in supplication.

'My Queen,' he'd said, not 'Your Majesty.'

Slytherin's soul, she loved this man! She really, _really _did.

With a thought, she conjured what she'd need for the paddling session to come first. She had just the right thing in mind… It appeared on a small table next to the Tantra Chair. "Stand Theo, and take your clothes off for me once more," she commanded.

"Yes, My Queen," he humbly offered and did as she asked.

As he removed his shirt, she walked around him in a predatory circle. "Every action round, you will come to this room and immediately remove all of your clothes for me," she instructed.

"Yes, My Queen." His belt dropped on top of his shirt, even as he kicked his shoes and toed his socks off.

She walked over to the chair and stood beside it. "You will then come to this chair and sit on the smaller hump and wait for me to join you."

"Yes, My Queen. Anything you desire." His trousers and pants hit his ankles and he stepped out of them, making his way towards her, undiminished by his nudity. In fact, he was quite engorged, she noted, her mouth watering at the sight of his hard cock bobbing with every step he took towards her. Sitting on the chair as she required, he kept his head down. "What will you have of me, My Queen?"

"This will be your starting point every time we enter this room together," she reaffirmed. "Regardless of whether either one of us holds a _Deeds_ card or a _Forfeits _card that round. You will always present yourself to me in this fashion, until I instruct you otherwise, Theo."

"Of course, My Queen, as you will it."

He was being such a good boy, so respectfully submissive. She was going to reward him for his willingness to obey. Moving to the small table, she picked up a small bottle of clear lubrication. "Stand for me, Theo."

He was on his feet in a second. "Yes, My Queen."

Pouring some of the water-based lubrication into her hands, she put the bottle back down and approached him. "Do not touch me, Theo. Allow me to reward you for your faith thus far."

He was just beginning to reply, but his voice hissed on the final 's' of his affirmation when she slowly stroked his penis with her slick fingers and palm. "Oh, shit," he swore ecstatically, his head falling back to loll on his neck, leaving the bare expanse of his throat exposed to her. At his sides, his fists clenched.

Daphne guided her hot, greedy hands over his thick, hard expanse, loving the feel as she thrust his tip between two fingers, capturing the reddish-purplish crown between them for an instant before release. Her fingers worked down every inch of him, cupping his balls, lathering him up there as well. She rubbed with increasing pressure on the small vein directly underneath and had him panting and moaning. All the while, his cock filled with blood.

When he was straining, beginning to unconsciously pump his hips rhythmically in time to her sliding hand, she pulled away. Theo let out a grunt of displeasure, but bit it back automatically, as if afraid of offending her. He was learning.

Commanding him to bend over the larger hump of the chair and stick his hind in the air, she reached for the paddle lying across the table. It was a small, flat board covered with leather. Theo braced his palms on the leather cushioning as required with another verbal confirmation, and eagerly awaited her pleasure, his cheeks rosy, perspiration already standing out above his upper lip. "I'm going to change the rules of this card and instead of tying you up and spanking you without purpose, I'm going to allow you the freedom of choice in both instances," she explained the game to him. "I'll ask you ten personal questions. Every one you answer, I'll reward by stroking your cock twice. Any you refuse to reply to, I'll spank you hard five times. If you come while I'm stroking you, and I don't give you permission to do so, I will tie you up, stop questioning you, and just spank to my heart's desire. Do you agree to play with me like this, Theo?" She gently ran the paddle over his buttocks as she talked to him, getting him used to the feel of it, enticing him.

He nodded. "Yes, My Queen. _Hell, yes!_"

"Good," Daphne purred next to his ear, leaning her head down to reward him with a tiny kiss on the peachy-colored shell. "Question one: what's your middle name, Theo?"

Daphne already knew this answer, but was testing his veracity.

"Darek."

He'd told the truth, so Daphne gently moved her hand around his waist and softly stroked his length up and down twice. He groaned and his penis twitched, but she let him go immediately, not wanting him to get too close to the point of no return this quickly.

Thinking up another question, she caressed his spine with her slick fingertips lightly. "Question two: with how many individuals have you had sexual intercourse, in sum total?"

"Um…" Daphne tried not to become annoyed that Theo actually had to think about it. "Sixteen… no, wait, seventeen."

That was four more than she was aware of. As she swiped her hand over him two more times, she nuzzled his hairline in the back of his neck, making him shiver. "So many people, Theo. That's quite a feat." Did that sound too bitchy? She took her hand off of him fast and fought back her jealousy. He mustn't know yet that she harbored these feelings for him, or the dynamics between them would change, and that could ruin everything. Steeling her voice, she continued. "Question three: in what position did you take the first girl with whom you had sex?"

He paused, seemed to consider an appropriate response. "I didn't take her. She took me the first time, her on top, riding me. After that, we fucked like rabbits all over the place in a variety of positions."

Ah, that explained why he liked being submissive. A person's first sexual encounter was said to set the tone for their preferences in the bedroom throughout most of their lives. She'd have to wait and see if that were a truism or not.

His hips bucked as she stroked his cock again in reward. She moved nice and slow, taking the time to acquaint herself with this part of his anatomy, having yearned for years to see and touch him. Now, here he was in the palm of her hand literally, gliding between her fingers just as she'd always fantasized. He was a good handful, at least eight inches, uncut, curved slightly upwards - just the proper size and shape for her body (her vibrator was about this same thickness and length, and it hit her cervix perfectly every time). She wondered what that pre-seminal fluid dripping from the engorged, maroon-colored tip tasted like, and had to restrain herself from sampling.

Moving her hand off of him, Theo actually growled low in his throat as she pulled away. The desperation in the sound made her smile.

"Question four," she focused them both sharply, "How about the other sixteen women? What position did you most prefer? Break it down for me, if you can remember."

He tilted his head, clearly sifting through his memories. "Aside from my first, every other time has been me on top – maybe fifty percent of the time, from behind – another forty percent, or against a wall – the remaining ten percent."

Interesting. He allowed no other woman to ride him, despite secretly wanting to be taken in such a manner. Daphne wondered the reason, even as her fingers tightened around his penis once more and guided him towards ecstasy, slathering his pre-cum all over his pulsing crown.

"_Gods_, I wanna fuck you so badly, My Queen!" he panted.

Daphne stroked up his spine and massaged his head, scratching her nails against his scalp erotically, even as she gave a last swipe to his delicious looking prick. "Patience, beloved, have patience. The more you want it, the sweeter it will be." She ran her tongue over the shell of his ear, and pressed a kiss to his temple, before stepping back once more, pulling them back into the game. "Question five: have you ever had sex with a man, or ejaculated to the fantasy of such a thing?"

Here, he stalled, and Daphne felt a queer, sinking feeling in her stomach that told her she might have stepped on a land mine this time; perhaps she should _not_ want to know the answer to this one. Perhaps this accounted for the four extra partners she hadn't known about?

Theo sighed resignedly. "Paddle me."

Well, that answered her curiosity. Clearly, Theo either knew the touch of a man or had touched himself to the idea a time or two, or perhaps he'd experienced wet dreams from the idea. From his reaction to Blaise's revelation of his bi-sexuality, though, her impression was that her partner was not into men openly, so perhaps it was most likely only in the vaults of his mind that he considered such things.

Although Daphne loathed having to punish him, she also knew that in this type of game, following through with promises was important to assuring that the players both understood and reinforced the boundaries. Deviation could irreconcilably damage the trust of master-servant that she was nurturing if she didn't follow through with the paddling. Therefore, gritting her teeth and steeling her nerves, she raised the paddle, recalling what she'd learned about proper striking technique. "Very well."

Each full, measured hit against his flesh was loud in the quiet room, and accompanied by him exhaling through his nose. By the fifth hard smack, Theo grunted softly.

Relieved that the chastisement was over for the moment, there was silence between them for a couple of minutes as Daphne properly let the punishment sink in. Theo's butt cheeks were rosy, yet she restrained her hand, though she wanted to rub soothing, loving apology over it, knowing that to do so would undermine the message she'd had to impart. This was a contest of dominance, after all.

When she felt it was appropriate to move on, not to linger too long on the lesson, she asked her next query: "Question six: what is your best sexual fantasy? If I were to fulfill your greatest wish, what would it be?"

Her partner blinked, blushed as cutely pink as his arse, and his grin widened. "Seriously? Wow… Um… I've sort of had this fantasy since Easter to take you in our Common Room on those couches, right in the middle of the day."

She raised an eyebrow at him in challenge. "Just sex? Nothing else? You can be more creative than that, Theo. Tell me your darkest, deepest desire."

Those ocean blue depths swam with shimmering, blazing lust and he licked his lips. "Anything, my Queen?"

Daphne nodded definitively. "_Anything_, Theo."

He swallowed again, drawing her eyes to that sexy neck of his, conjuring up images of how it would feel to bite it just hard enough to leave her mark on him. "I'd get us a room with a floor to ceiling mirror. I'd have you start by stripping for me, piece by piece, while I sat in a chair in front of the mirror and stroked myself, watching. I'd want you to bend over when taking your knickers off, sticking your arse in my face so I could lick your quim good and make you come. Then, I'd make you get on your hands and knees and suck my cock, taking me all the way down your throat. You'd swallow every drop of my jizz when I orgasmed." He licked his lips hungrily. "I'd cast a charm on myself to get hard again and have you turn around. I'd make you watch yourself in the mirror as your sweet, wet pussy slid down my cock and as I fucked you just like that. You'd ride me hard and I'd pump into you from below with deep thrusts. After both of us climaxed, I'd cast the same charm on myself to get hard again, and fill your arse the same way." His eyes lowered down her body as he described in brutal, succinct detail his ideal fantasy. "I'd play with your tits the whole time, pinching them, rolling them with my fingers, and I'd play with your clit as I shagged you. I'd make sure you came right along with me every single time." He stopped as his gaze rose to her eyes again, and there was so much heat, it nearly burned her. "I'd spend hours taking you in front of that mirror in different positions, Daphne, filling every orifice of your body with my come over and over again, until you'd smell and taste just like me. Then everyone would know who you belonged to, and they'd know to stay away."

With her heart pounding under her ribs, and feeling the moisture gathering between her legs saturate her panties with liquid fire, Daphne had to tighten her grip on the paddle to keep her fingers from moving towards her pelvis, and did mental exercises to calm her racing blood so it wouldn't show in her cheeks how much his words affected her. "And how would I mark you as mine, Theo? If you claimed me in such a way, then I'd want to claim you, too."

His eyes were scorching into her soul now. "My Queen, you've _already_ claimed me. I'll do anything you want. My body is your playground. Bite me, suck on me, whip me, fuck me until I smell and taste just like you, too. I'd love every second of it."

Slytherin's soul, she was tingling to the tips of her toes from just his description, and her inner muscles were clenching and unclenching with need at the visuals that her mind produced from the depths of her imagination…

Clearing her throat, Daphne jumped right in with her next inquiry, not giving herself time to dwell on that scenario, for fear her control might crack under the strain of wanting too much. "Question seven: do you like me as a person, Theo? Not as your Queen tonight, but the part of me that you know outside of the game, that is to say."

"Yes," he replied without hesitation. "You're interesting and bloody beautiful, and your smarts make me totally hard for you. Every time you open your mouth, I want to kiss it."

Trying not to let her vanity run amok, and to reward him for answering both questions, she stroked Theo's steely length five times, not four, lingering over his heavy, tight sack, tickling his tip with her nails and rubbing the pre-seminal fluid that escaped all over him. "Merlin almighty, your hands are quickly becoming my other favorite part of you, though, My Queen," he admitted through clenched teeth. When she pulled away, he actually whimpered this time.

"Don't worry, Theo, you'll have your chance to get back at me soon," she whispered in his ear seductively. "You still have your card to perform." He swallowed heavily, his Adam's apple kicking up and down with force, elongating the stretch of his sexy throat for a second. It made Daphne's breath catch. Pulling back, she masked the clearing of her throat with the whap of the paddle against her palm. "Question eight: have you ever been in love?"

Theo shook his head without hesitation. "No."

Strangely, this revelation did not offend her, for Daphne knew Theo's capricious heart was still wild and untamed due to his youth. It achieved quite the opposite effect, in fact, and brought her great relief, as that meant she would not be competing with the ghost of another woman for his affections. It also meant she had a very good chance of securing that position for herself if she were clever enough.

Pressing close to him from the side, she leaned her mouth towards his ear as her fingers very slowly and with increased pressure jerked him off twice. "You're doing well, Theo. I love that you are being so honest with me. It… makes me decidedly moist for you."

He groaned, turning so they were pressed together cheek-to-cheek and began rubbing against her like a big cat. "I wish to bring you nothing but pleasure, My Queen."

Her eye caught his as she rubbed back. "And I wish to bring you singular pleasure, too, Theo. Believe that."

His smile was enchanting. "Yes, My Queen."

She gave him an extra swipe down and up just to prove her words, which made him gasp, and then took her hand off of him and stepped back, twirling the paddle's handle back and forth in her palm. "Question nine: have you ever sexually taken a person against their will?" She assumed the answer would be negative, but one never knew what lay in the deepest, darkest hearts of others.

"NO!" he shouted the protest, seemingly shocked that she would ask such a thing, but regained control of his emotions quickly. "No, I wouldn't."

She believed him, for there had been none of the telltale signs of a lie in his facial features. That, at least, was a relief. Consensual violence was acceptable, but non-con was one of the unforgivable sins against a woman.

"Question ten," she began, preparing herself for the one question that had burned in her mind for years. "How old were you when you lost your virginity and to whom did you give it?" She'd always wondered this fact, but had never been able to discern the truth of it, as none of the girls around school seemed to think Theo had been a virgin when he'd taken them. That meant it had to have been someone outside of Hogwarts to have won such a distinction. Daphne had always been curious as to the girl's identity.

Here, to her surprise, Theo paused again. "I… Daphne, I don't want to answer this one. You'll be… very angry with me if I tell you. You won't understand."

She rested the paddle against his bottom in silent warning as to the consequences should he choose not to reply, but did not attempt to further persuade him, as this was an issue of Theo learning to open up, not to force such compliance from him. She knew some of the things he'd done to other women over the years through rumor and her manipulated conversations with them, though, so why would the secret of his first initiation into adulthood change her mind about him that much? Would it destroy her feelings for him?

"If you wish, you may explain it so I will understand," she compromised. "I promise to listen and will reserve judgment for after you have finished your tale."

He swallowed heavily, loudly, seemed to war within himself. Finally, he exhaled shakily. "I… bloody hell, you should just paddle me instead."

Daphne blinked in surprise, her brows lowering in concern. Was it really _that bad_ a secret? "You would truly take a punishment instead? I do not understand why. It has been my experience that many men enjoy the bragging rights of their initial sexual conquest."

Theo looked at her over his shoulder. "Not in this case. I'd rather you hurt me than I hurt you."

She measured him coolly, considering her options, feeling the pit of dread open up inside her belly again. She was going to have to spank him again… and the one burning question she'd had for years would remain unsatisfied.

But the rules were specific in these types of games, and she knew she would not press the issue. "I apologize for attempting to persuade you, when clearly you were not comfortable with the discussion. This is your secret to keep. I understand and respect that, Theo." She held the paddle up and touched his hind with it. "Unfortunately, you did not answer, so I must punish you now."

The intense, blue depths simply accepted her sentence, and he turned back to the front to await her retribution, his beautiful body tensing up once more in anticipation of the pain to come.

_I'll make this up to you, beloved,_ she inwardly promised, and proceeded to hit the paddle against his flesh five times, knowing the sting it would leave behind, as she'd been on the receiving end of this consequence herself once. He groaned on the last strike, and she knew he would be sore from this session for a while.

As she finished, she dropped the paddle and instantly let her hands soothe his nettled skin, rubbing in soft, light circles. "Stay there, Theo, and let me ease your pain."

He did as she bade with an automatic, "Yes, My Queen," with a rough voice that indicated the experience of pain. Daphne mentally summoned a cool washcloth and placed it upon his burning flesh. He jerked a bit as the temperature differences shocked his system at first, but then eased down as she used the extremely soft, damp terry cloth to massage away his hurt.

When she felt he was in less discomfort, she instructed him to stand up and take a step back, so there was some space for her to squeeze between him and the larger hump on the chair. As she passed the table, she grabbed the lube once more, and finally positioned herself in front of him. His erection was only half inflated now, as she knew hurt had a way of killing sexual stimulation until one was worked into believing the two were synonymous through practice. She rubbed some of the non-greasy substance onto her hands again and then closed the top and dropped it onto the floor heedlessly. They wouldn't need it again this session.

Gently taking his beautiful cock in her hands, she stroked him back to life easily, expertly, using all of her knowledge to bring him to the brink quickly. Backing off just before that point of no return, she commanded him to divest her of her clothes. Eyes wide with surprise, and hands shaking with anticipation, Theo silently worked her dress over her body, tossing it to the ground. He undid the clasp of her bra again and it joined the dress. Pausing to look at her for confirmation of her orders, and receiving it with a nod of her head, he then removed her knickers fully, unable to help himself from bending and pressing his nose right up against her shaved pussy lips.

"Do you want to taste me, Theo? Is this the place you want to lick me, as your card requires?"

He nodded. "Yes, My beautiful, beautiful Queen. Oh, _gods_, yes! I want to taste you so bad my mouth is watering."

She conjured a towel and wiped her hands off, then sat on the large hump of the chair and laid back. "Then sit and eat me, Theo. Make me come hard all over your lips. If you do a good job, I'll let you find your own ending."

Eagerly, he sat… hissing in pain as his bum touched the chair. He adjusted and finally took a seat, and Daphne flung her legs over his shoulders. Theo wasted no time, diving straight in, parting her vulva with his fingers. "Fucking hell, your pussy is _gorgeous_," he breathed, sticking his nose right against her clit and inhaling. He sighed in longing, and placed a kiss on her lower lips in reverence, holding onto her hips with both hands. "You smell so _fucking_ good, Daphne. I _knew_ you would."

Wasting no more breath on talking, he thrust his tongue in between her folds, licking her from bottom to top with one, long, languid swipe. On this first pass, Daphne couldn't help but gasp and moan. She'd been eaten before as part of her training, but this was one of her particularly favorite things to have done to her, and the fact that it was Theo doing it to her now… On the second pass of his torturous tongue, she gave herself over to the sensations, moaning wantonly and clutching his hair with one hand as she pinched the nipple of her right breast with the other. He feasted on her with wicked lips and sinful tongue, bathing every centimeter of her pussy with his saliva, lathing and suckling hard on her clit. When he thrust his talented tongue into her opening – a place where previously only her fingers and specialized toys had ever been, as Daphne had taken her own virginity and had never let a man claim her there - and swept as far up as he could go inside her pink channel, tickling and teasing her inner, moist, rippling muscles, she felt her body clench around him, trying to hold him in. He slid out with a devilish chuckle that made her shiver, however, only to thrust back in again and again in a slow, even rhythm that had her squirming under him in seconds.

"Touch me with your fingers," she begged, her breathing coming faster as she climbed the relentless peak towards ecstasy. "Claim me, Theo. Make me yours, just like this."

Her lover groaned loudly, and the sound vibrated through Daphne's core and up into her womb, causing her whole body to race with blood, and her lower body to saturate his mouth as she tensed up all her muscles, reaching for that inevitable, playful bliss.

When he nipped her clit and thrust first two, then three fingers up and into her, opening her up, Daphne's control snapped. "_Yes_, Theo! Go deeper, suck and kiss me harder. Fuck me with your fingers and tongue!"

Theo swore against her in astonishment, clearly not expecting her use of profanities, but he happily did as she wanted, plunging his fingers into her hot, wet sheath, lapping at her tiny nub of flesh, coaxing electric sparks from it. He persistently teased the tips of his fingers against her favorite spot on the upper inside of her body while continually flicking her clit.

She was close… so very close! Tensing her muscles up, she knew he could feel it as she teetered on the edge. Her hand gripped his hair as she rolled her nipple between her fingers hard, and his hands on her hips tightened, raising her slightly – just enough of an angle change to cause his fingers to end their torment and fully stroke her g-spot at the same time as he sucked hard on her sensitive bead. "Theo… _oh, Theo!_" she wailed, and he brought her in that second, moaning with longing and need against her as her soaked, swollen cunt convulsed around his fingers in rolling ripples of ecstasy. The wave of sexual nirvana slammed through her entire body, arching her back, causing detonations behind her eyelids. She'd never come so hard in her life!

Theo drank up the rush of her warm cream, lapping it off his fingers, and from between her lips. He moaned several times as he licked her all up and down, capturing her release with his chin and lips and cheeks. His face positively glimmered with her climax when he finally came up for air. "That was… _fucking amazing_, My Queen!" He kissed her damp pussy lips again as Daphne struggled to regain her breath, panting hard, letting all of her limbs go limp in her satiated glow. She looked down the angle of her body at his boyishly excited expression. "You taste like… like cream and pineapple. Sweet! I could die happy eating you out."

Daphne couldn't help it – she actually giggled! "Pineapple?"

He grinned and it was so open and honest an expression, that she fell in love all over again in that moment. Stroking his cheek softly, she smiled at him. "That was truly wondrous, Theo. You are quite gifted with your tongue, I dare compliment – and not just for injecting witticisms during heated discourse, it would seem."

He licked her again and waggled his eyebrows at her. "Keep talking like that. It makes me want to eat you again."

The chimes rang out just then, and he pouted and sighed in disappointment. Daphne gave him a slow, wicked smirk. "Perhaps next round our positions will be reversed, beloved. Would you like that very much?"

His eyes widened and he nodded very eagerly. She chuckled again and held out her hands. "Stand and help me to my feet, my enthusiastic wizard. We must hasten to redress."

To her surprise, he helped her to get her lingerie and dress back on, showing her great respect and care, before he donned his own clothes. He left his shoes, socks and belt off, and left his shirt untucked, she noticed, apparently because it was too much effort. They both knew they would be back here in a few minutes and he'd be stripped down once more anyway.

Before they left, he stopped her at the door. "May I kiss you now, My Queen? Just a quick kiss on the cheek, I promise."

Daphne smiled. How utterly charming. "I would like that very much, Theo."

When his lips brushed her cheek, somehow that felt more intimate and romantic a gesture than the whole last fifty minutes between them, and it left Daphne with a warm flutter in her belly. She returned the gesture, and they spent another few seconds just looking at each other and smiling as they came to a silent understanding.

Theo opened the door for them, and indicated she should go before him, as was proper. "After you, My beautiful Queen."

Turning from him reluctantly to walk back towards the couches, Daphne felt a sweet tugging in her heart, and knew that deep inside, at just that precise moment, another piece of her soul became the property of one Mr. Theodore Nott.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "I Get Off" by Halestorm. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**You don't know that I know  
You watch me every night.  
And I just can't resist the urge  
To stand here in the light,  
Your greedy eyes upon me.  
And then I come undone.  
I could close the curtain,  
But this is too much fun.**_

_**I get off on you**_  
_**Getting off on me.**_  
_**Give you what you want,**_  
_**But nothing is for free.**_  
_**It's a give and take,**_  
_**Kind of love we make.**_  
_**When the line is crossed,**_  
_**I get off.**_  
_**I get off.**_

_**There's so much left unspoken**_  
_**Between the two of us**_  
_**It's so much more exciting**_  
_**To look when you can't touch**_  
_**You could say I'm different**_  
_**Maybe I'm a freak**_  
_**But I know how to twist you**_  
_**To bring you to your knees**_

_**I get off on you**_  
_**Getting off on me**_  
_**Give you what you want**_  
_**But nothing is for free**_  
_**It's a give and take**_  
_**Kind of love we make**_  
_**When the line is crossed**_  
_**I get off**_  
_**I get off**_

_**What you don't know,**_  
_**What you can't see,**_  
_**Is what I do for you…**_  
_**I do for me.**_

_**I get off on you  
Getting off on me.  
I give you what you want…**_

_**I get off on you  
Getting off on me.  
Give you what you want,  
But nothing is for free.  
It's a give and take,  
Kind of love we make.  
When the line is crossed,  
I get off.  
I get off.  
I get off.**_


	16. Chapter 4: The 3rd Question

_**CONTEST WINNERS THIS CHAPTER: **__Users __**EllieMay Duncan & Evenstar Dreamer **__recommended the song, __**"**_**Wicked Game**_**" by Chris Issak **__for everyone this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to everyone's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**EllieMay Duncan & Evenstar Dreamer **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

**P.S. THANK YOU AGAIN, UNSEENLIBRARIAN, for the timely and hard-worked beta!**

**PLEASE REVIEW, FOLKS! What did you think of this chapter? **

**

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_**CHAPTER FOUR: THE 3rd QUESTION**_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland**_

_**Room of Requirement**_

_**Saturday, June 13, 1998 (9:30pm)**_

Hermione and her partner were the first ones out to the couches this time around, which made her decidedly nervous. There would be a lot of dead air between them until someone else put in an appearance. Maybe she should say something?

"Thank you again," she offered, feeling the heat crawling up her cheeks. "For the meal. It really was quite lovely. And the beach scene was a nice touch."

Malfoy crossed his legs casually, European style, and leaned back into the cushions of the sofa, staring at her with those enigmatic grey eyes of his. In her chest, her heart thumped extra hard in response. "You're welcome, Granger. I liked sharing that with you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because I got the impression that you'd have liked a more… physical… action card."

His smirk was automatic, not in the least bit chagrined that she had surmised the truth. "Maybe we'll get lucky this round, hmmm?"

She felt her cheeks flame to life, and cleared her throat behind a closed fist. "Yes, well, so far, I've been enjoying myself." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I hope you don't plan to spoil it by getting raunchy."

Teeth showed now as his grin expanded, and one golden eyebrow twitched up. "You don't like raunchy? So, I take it vulgar, crude, and bawdy are also off the list as well?"

Now he was teasing her. Hermione found herself grinning at his words, despite her earlier misgivings. She shook her head, amused, and declared, "You really are undisciplined and perverse."

Draco didn't seem in the least bit offended by her assessment, nor did he seem ready to let this matter rest, either. "Not even bawdy, then? Hmmm… How about arousing, provocative or sensual instead? Could I do anything of that sort to you and still be considered a gentleman later?"

Hermione's core temperature rose by several degrees, she was sure, and she felt a fluttering in her stomach again as they stared at each other in silence for long heartbeats. "Perhaps," she allowed, knowing that establishing such a mood in advance would only encourage him. However, if she could set the tone for their future private sessions now, perhaps it would keep him from doing anything truly uncomfortable to her later when they were alone. If he knew she would be interested in anything sexual between them being gentle and tender, he might just give her that instead of a "wham-bam-thank you-Quidditch-fan" series of liaisons.

Malfoy seemed decidedly interested, as his gaze smoldered behind half-lids and his smile fell back into something less jesting, more enticing.

Before they could talk more, Harry and Tracey came out of their room… climbing all over each other right outside their door! They were snogging passionately, their lips locked together fiercely, as if breathing was a mere luxury, not a necessity.

Well, wasn't that just… odd. Her best male friend was usually the epitome of chivalry and courtesy with women. Pawing all over a girl in public was something he considered… well, _gauche_… yet, there he stood, his mitts thrust into Tracey's hair as he kissed her like it was his last opportunity in all the world. It seemed terribly out of character for him, and made Hermione wonder just what had happened behind closed doors in the last fifty minutes to make such a drastic change possible in her friend's behavior.

Seamus and Lavender came out next (Harry and Tracey didn't even come up for air to notice), hesitantly holding hands as they exited their private room – which looked vaguely like a replica of the Gryffindor Common Room from the brief glimpse Hermione caught before the door closed - and made their way silently towards the couches. Holy Horklumps, they'd either shagged or come close; it was obvious by the guilty look on her roommate's features. Didn't Lavender still harbor resentment towards Seamus for hurting her years ago when he'd taken her virginity? (Living in the same dorm room meant there was _a lot _of such gossip to be heard, and their other roommate, Pavarti, had filled in Hermione on the quick and ugly version of what had happened that night.) Yet, somehow it seemed Brown and her ex- had made amends – at least, enough for both of them to be touching and to appear fashionably rumpled, anyway (her hair was a bit disarranged and she was missing her silver heart charm bracelet, and he was no longer wearing his jacket and vest, and his shirt had distinct creases). They took their seats on the end of the couch, continuing to hold hands silently. She noted Seamus' thumb brush absently up and down against Lavender's, as if he were nervous that what they were doing was going to be taken away at any minute. It was charming, if not a little strange.

A very boisterously laughing Parkinson and Ron ran out of their room and raced for the sofas next (this caught Harry's attention finally, as he lifted his mouth off of Tracey's – although he continued to whisper softly to her, their faces very close). Pansy tagged the edge of the couches first, but it was obvious her partner let her get there before him (he did have the longer stride, after all). "I win!" Slytherin's Queen boasted and gave Hermione's ex-boyfriend an impish grin. "You owe me again, Weasley!"

Picking her up and twirling her around, making her squeal in delight, the ginger-haired wizard laughed. "You can collect any time you want, baby!" he teased, waggling his eyebrows at her and caressing her bum lovingly.

Hermione's jaw dropped. What had happened to the undemonstrative in bed, fumbling, sexually uneasy and boorish Ron she'd known? He hadn't changed _that _much when he'd been with Lavender (again, according to the gossip), preferring to let his partner take control in bed. Surely, _Pansy Parkinson _couldn't be the reason he'd morphed into this fun-loving, sexually domineering, exuberant man before her… could she?

Putting her forehead against Ron's, Pansy smirked wickedly at her partner. "I'll remember you said that," she vowed, then pressed a small kiss to his lips and squirmed out of his embrace, racing around the couch to take her spot. "Beat you again!" she sing-songed, as he made his way around to his side of the 'arena,' stretching happily and whistling.

Bloody hell. That was just… too strange.

Hermione sank back into the sofa and tried not to sulk, intentionally sneaking a peek in Malfoy's direction to see his reaction. Ah, good, he was just as astonished over her ex's behavior as she was. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who was flabbergasted to the point of nausea. Well, at least misery would have company in this case.

Theo and Daphne were trading mysterious smiles as they took their seats at about the same time as Ron and Pansy, although their entrance had been decidedly less obvious. It wasn't until Nott came around the front of the couch, though, that she noted that he was barefoot and beltless, and his shirt was loose. Greengrass' hair was nicely mussed and her necklace was a bit crooked as well. Well, clearly _they'd_ gotten it on, too.

Was there anyone here excepting her that wasn't getting any?

Oh, that's right, Malfoy wasn't that lucky either. Not that she wanted him to be – not at all!

…

Still, a little snogging might not hurt. It wasn't like she _wasn't _attracted to him. He _was_ quite an impressive-looking specimen, after all. If they kissed, he'd probably look even better as his mouth would be shut.

…

Actually, that wasn't fair. These last two rounds, he'd been absolutely fascinating to talk with.

That thought disturbed her more than the idea of kissing him had, and she pondered it in silence, as Zabini and Ginny finally put in their appearance. The two rivals were also holding hands (sure, why not fit right in with the current motif?) and strangely, they were soaked to the bone. Her friend's face was also a brilliant red and she was walking a little funny, which could only mean one thing… Merlin's left testicle! Had her friend really fucked Zabini?

"Hurricane come through when I wasn't looking, sis?" Ron asked, grinning and shaking his head.

Gin flipped him off with her free hand. "You're just jealous you're _not_ wet," she countered and snickered at the double meaning. To Hermione's absolute shock, though, her ex- glanced across the aisle at his new partner and winked at her, but didn't reply. Pansy threw him an air kiss back and grinned.

Holy cat-a-moli, could she expect to see Satan skiing to work this evening, too?

Although, it pained Hermione to even think the idea, obviously Ron had either shagged or come really close to shagging Pansy Parkinson already - and apparently, they'd both liked whatever it was they'd done so far.

What was happening to the world? Had she entered some sort of warped parallel dimension where her ex-boyfriend and her best guy friend were really repressed slavering, adept sex gods, finally coming out of the closet?

"Is it really hot in here, or is it just me?" she asked fanning herself with her hand suddenly. "Because, I could swear the heat is on. Malfoy, go check," she shoo'd him with one hand.

Her partner threw her an exasperated look. "Granger, the Room of Requirement is set to the ideal temperature." He gave her a lascivious look. "If you're hot, take something off."

"Bite me," she automatically replied, only to wince, realizing she'd left him the perfect opening. "Forget it. I take it back."

Malfoy's grin was shark-like, all pointed teeth and evil. "The cards are starting to get you to open up to your real desires, I see."

"You wish," she mouthed to him in a very soft whisper that she knew he could still hear across the short distance.

He waggled his eyebrows. "Yeah, so?" he mouthed back.

With a snarl of frustration, she sat back in the sofa cushions and folded her arms over her chest, refusing to look at her partner or talk to him again. She crossed her legs at the knee and began jiggling one leg in annoyance.

As she and Malfoy bantered, Hermione noted from the corner of her eye that Zabini silently _Accio_'d his wand to his hand from the table in the center and cast a drying charm on Ginny first (making sure to get her hair combed out nicely at the same time), then himself. As she focused more of her attention on them (so she could ignore Ferret-Face), to her shock and awe, the tall, dark, and very sexy wizard took her best girl friend's hand in his and kissed the back of the knuckles before letting her take her seat next to Hermione.

Wait… weren't those two fighting just last round?

Oh, that's right, they'd had sex so now everything was a-okay.

That was the last straw. Hermione was officially vomiting at any moment.

"Harry, do you think we could start now that everyone's here?" she yelled across the room at her best guy friend, who had stopped to snog Davis one more time before taking her hand and leading her to the couches.

"Yeah, Potter, any lifetime now," Malfoy shot over his shoulder, then turned his attention back to her. "Some of us are eager for the next action round." He cast a knowing smirk her direction, and Hermione did something terribly childish then – she stuck out her tongue at him and turned up her nose. Slytherin's Prince let out a dark, rich chuckle that made things inside her guts churn like butter, but she resolutely refused to rise to the bait.

Harry escorted Tracey to her spot at the sofa, seemingly reluctant to let her go, and then rushed to his side of the couch and threw his arse down rather cheerfully. "Your turn to navigate, Draco," he chirpily informed, crossing his legs American-style, placing an ankle on one knee.

Malfoy looked annoyed that Harry would dare to use his given name so freely.

"Oh, wait!" Tracey chimed in, holding up her card. "You all left before I could perform my card. It requires me to do so in front of the group." Theo wolf-whistled playfully and every girl in the group rolled her eyes, knowing that's what you could expect from Nott. Undeterred, Davis continued. "It says that I have to tell you a secret about myself," the pretty blonde explained, then put her card down on the table before her. "All right, my secret is that I asked the Sorting Hat to put me in whatever House Harry Potter was going to be sent to. That's how I ended up in Slytherin. The Hat wanted to put me in Hufflepuff instead."

"_I KNEW IT!_" Pansy screeched, pointing at her girl friend. "Didn't I always say your heart was too sweet for Slytherin?"

Malfoy uncrossed his legs and leaned forward slowly, as if coming to a conclusion that wasn't palatable in the least. "That makes no sense. You should have ended up in Gryffindor, unless…" He went silent, his gaze zeroing in on Harry and narrowing as he understood the unspoken implication of Tracey's secret. "No _fucking_ way."

Everyone was looking at Harry then, Hermione included. "Harry…"

Her friend shook his head, keeping his eyes on Tracey. He didn't seem angry in the least that something this personal had been unwittingly revealed about him; in fact, he seemed almost relieved. "No discussion over the cards," he reminded them. "Tracey was required to tell you her secret and she did. Her card's fulfilled."

To everyone's amazement, the card magically picked itself up and whipped back into the _Forfeits_ deck, when then reshuffled itself in front of them.

"Wicked," Ron breathed in awe.

Hermione had seen a lot of interesting magic in her day, but the spell on these cards went beyond anything she'd ever heard of before. The deck itself seemed almost sentient – and apparently able to override Gamp's Law. Food was one of the few commodities wizards and witches couldn't bespell into existence (the others being money, life, love and knowledge), and yet this last round, she'd shared an entire meal with Malfoy. How was that possible? She puzzled it through her head, staring at the cards as Slytherin's Captain instructed Daphne to pick up the third _Interrogations_ card of the game and begin.

Greengrass adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose to read the card. "If you had to be submissive in bed because your partner wanted it, would you have the courage to submit to their every whim without crying foul or making any complaint?"

Play began with Blaise. He said only one word, with firm emphasis: "Absolutely." He reached for a _Deeds_ card as his gaze connected with his partner's across the way. Hermione felt Ginny's tension, as they sat only inches from each other, but couldn't decipher whether it was fear or nervous anxiety that had set her small shoulders rigid. Would her friend be all right? Zabini was still dangerous for all his earlier charm, wasn't he?

Davis was speaking then, so she turned her attention back to the game. "… don't think I feel comfortable with this question, either. I'll forfeit answering again." She reached for a blue card.

Oh, joy of joys, it was Malfoy's turn again.

Reluctantly, she swung her eyes in his direction, and was not surprised to see them turned heatedly upon her. "Ahhh, one of my questions," he grinned sinfully. "So, let me see here… _would_ I be submissive in every way if you wanted me to be, Granger? Hmmm…" He pretended to consider the issue, tapping one long, perfectly manicured finger on his knee. "_Would_ I get down on my knees and worship you if you wanted me to? _Would_ I let you undress me and put a collar on me if it would make you happy? _Would_ I bathe every inch of your skin slowly with a sponge if it would bring you pleasure? _Would_ I cook gourmet meals for you and give you full body oil massages to help ease your tension? _Would_ I fuck you for hours, in every position you demanded until we both passed out from exhaustion?" His finger suddenly stopped tapping, and he went very still. His gaze smoldered with blatant lust. "_Hell. Yes._"

As he reached for a red card, Hermione wondered if anyone had ever considered the possibility of patenting a miniature air conditioner for one's knickers – one with tiny electrodes that could wirelessly tell the temp of your clit from five meters so it could activate itself in case of emergencies like this one. Mentally, she conjured a fan instead, and the Room provided for her.

Malfoy belted out a rich laugh and Hermione's face lit up like a Filibuster firework as she fanned herself off furiously. Play moved on to Seamus without further ado, despite the curses Hermione was throwing at her partner inside her head.

"Well, I ain't as loquacious as our Slytherin Capt'n here, but I would definitely be yer sub if ya wanted that o' me, sweet angel," Finnegan spoke quietly for Lavender only. His free hand reached out and tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. The look he gave Hermione's roommate was… _wow_… why couldn't a man look at _her_ like that? "If ya ever want ta try, yeah?"

From her angle, Hermione couldn't see Lavender's expression, but she did see the girl's open hand reach out and place itself on top of their entwined fingers.

"Take a card, Finnegan," Malfoy reminded him dryly.

Seamus let his partner go and reached out for a _Deeds_ card.

Lavender spoke quickly, looking down. "I'm more comfortable being a dom, honestly, but… I could learn, I suppose. I don't think I'd flinch."

"Good enough for me," Harry ruled, looking at Malfoy for a judge's call. "You can't expect a person to know for sure how they'd act if they've never done something before. A best guess is fine, I think."

Malfoy considered it, and nodded in agreement. "Brown, take a red card."

The girl did as bade, and then it was Ron's turn. He was already leaning far back in the cushions, his gaze locked onto Pansy's across the way, his booted ankles crossed, and his head resting comfortably on his entwined hands. "Oh, definitely. I'd love to service your every desire, baby," he answered without pause. "Your wish is my command." He was grinning like a fool.

Pansy shook her head and smiled, but Hermione could tell the woman was very pleased with the answer. Maybe she'd been wrong about her ex- and Slytherin's femme fatale. They seemed to genuinely like each other… or, maybe they just liked the sex. Who the fuck knew anymore?

"Granger, your turn," Malfoy informed her, looking a little annoyed with her distraction as he drew her out of her thoughts. "Weasley just took an action card."

Her turn? Oh! She cleared her throat behind her hand. "Well… I suppose…"

"Just take the forfeit, so play can move on," her partner sardonically mused. He was back to tapping that finger on his knee again.

Hermione's knickers got into a twist at the sarcastic, deprecating tone he used with her. "Are you insinuating that I don't have the guts to answer this question, Malfoy?"

Her partner looked at her with mocking amusement and snorted indelicately. "_Please_. You didn't answer the last one, and that was in the same 'alternative lifestyle' ballpark. Do us all a favor and don't front."

Clenching her jaw, she narrowed her eyes and reached for a red card. "For your information, Mr. Smarmy Pants, I wouldn't be a bit afraid of being a sub to the right person. You are not he, though. I _know_ you'd totally take advantage of me, and I don't relish the idea of kneeling at your feet and puffing up your arrogance."

Malfoy stared at her hard at first, but then broke into a grin. "_'Mr. Smarmy Pants'_? You come up with that one all on your own, Granger, or did you borrow that from some First Year witchy-poo in Hufflepuff?"

"Chauvinistic prat," she threw out.

"Frigid school marm," he shot back with no heat, all play. "Hit the mark that time, did I?" he continued to rile her, crossing his legs again and thoroughly enjoying the verbal sparring.

Hermione opened her mouth to chew Malfoy a new arse when Harry brought her up short. "Enough you two, please. No discussion – and that includes trading insults," her friend cut in, ending the name-calling session. Deprived of her come back, Hermione satisfied herself with glaring across the space at her blonde-haired, rodent-faced partner instead. He wasn't fazed in the least, however, much to her consternation.

That was okay, she'd just get the toad-faced chode back in their private room later.

Ginny was answering next, looking earnestly across the coffee table at Zabini, her hands playing with the hem of her fancy, embroidered jacket nervously. "I don't think I'd like to be _anyone's _sub. You know why." Her partner nodded once in acceptance, his face carefully shielded from giving away any emotion. "I'm sorry."

Blaise shook his head with easy capitulation. "Don't be."

Some sort of silent message passed between them, and then Ginny nodded in what appeared to be thanks, as she reached for a red card.

Harry squinted and squinched his nose up, as if he were trying to adjust invisible glasses on his face without his hands, and then he reached for a blue card. "Same reason as you," he informed his partner on the other couch. Tracey smiled in a shared understanding with him.

Theo looked around Pansy at Daphne then. "I think we both already know the answer to this one," he smirked ridiculously, and reached for a red card. "Unequivocally, _yes_."

Parkinson looked across at Ron, and there seemed to be a silent conversation going on between the two of them. Ron looked at the piles of cards, the same as she did, and then nudged his chin almost imperceptibly towards the _Forfeits_ deck.

"I… think I don't want to answer," she announced with a grin and grabbed a blue card.

Harry and Malfoy traded a look that seemed to agree that they understood what Parkinson and Ron had just done, but it was allowed by the rules. If Pansy didn't want to answer, she didn't have to. Anyone could "throw" a round if they wanted to at any time, as long as they understood a forfeit action card was attached to that decision.

Play finally came to rest on Greengrass again. The beautiful blonde re-adjusted her glasses, put the _Interrogations _card down on the table, and reached for a _Forfeits_ card. She glanced over at Theo as she leaned back into the sofa, and whatever it was they shared, he seemed agreeable as he nodded in acceptance. There was no angry explosion from him this time, no resentful sulking. Apparently, they'd come to an understanding in private of what had happened last round's questioning, because Nott seemed content to let Daphne's refusal to answer slide.

Boy, there sure was a lot of silent communication going on between partners this round. Since when did everyone get so bloody close that they could engage in such intimate exchanges anyway? It was only the third round of questions! The way people were acting, you'd think they'd been seeing each other for a few weeks, at least. Weird.

The _Interrogations_ card that Daphne had read magically erased itself, as that card was now completed. The letters faded away into oblivion, leaving only a cream-colored, blank template for the next game's players to use, Hermione noted. She wondered who those people would be…

Malfoy stood up. "Everyone read your cards now. If you need to perform an action to the group, say it before we break up in a minute."

Hermione turned her card over and read it. Oh… well… that didn't sound so bad! In fact, it seemed downright wonderful! Thank goodness! She looked up at her partner just as he finished reading his card. When his eyes met hers, a devilish smirk crawled up his cheek and his eyes flattened out like a predator on the prowl.

Shit, what did _that _mean?

She begged to the cosmos that he hadn't gotten a card that forced her to do something truly humiliating. What if he was allowed to strip her clothes off her? Or worse, what if she had to perform oral sex on him? _Oh please, oh please, oh please - NO!_

He waggled his eyebrows at her mischievously, as if sensing her internal panic.

Bloody, bloody hell! Was there no justice in the universe? Hadn't she racked up enough good karma points from knitting all those tiny house elf hats? Oh, Goddess, what if this was anti-karma for all the times she did Ron's homework for him? Oh, Merlin, had she cancelled out all of her good deeds by helping that smeg-head ex-boyfriend of hers?

GAH!

"I have to go to the bathroom!" she announced the excuse, jumping to her feet, needing to get away from her partner's reptilian ogling, even if just for a few minutes.

"Me, too," Gin piped in from the side.

Lavender nodded and gained her feet. "We'll go together."

Hermione groaned. She'd wanted to be alone so she could throw a tiny tissy fit in privacy before being forced to deal with her situation. Sometimes she did that just before exams; it always seemed to help her focus better.

"We should all go," Pansy announced, standing too.

Oh, great. The Slytherins were joining the field trip. Why not invite a gaggle of Cornish pixies to come join the fun while they were at it? She was sure Lockhart had left some behind all those years ago…

Harry stepped over to Malfoy. "A twenty-minute break? Maybe some water for everyone? Snacks?"

Draco nodded, summoning his favorite house elf servant, while on the other side of the room, two doors appeared – one with the universal symbol for girls, the other for boys. Hermione grabbed up her wand from the table and didn't even look back as she took off for the correct restroom.

To her surprise, the loo looked a lot like any of the others to be found around the castle – green-painted stalls, utilitarian mirrors, a row of white, ceramic sinks, clean, white towels on circular racks next to each mirror. The six women filed into the room together and all of them went for a bog immediately. As the doors shut and the sounds of peeing could be heard, Pansy started talking.

"I'm loving this game," she announced cheerfully. "Who knew Weasley was so fucking hot?"

"Ewww," Gin called from the stall next to Hermione's. "Gross! T.M.I."

Pansy tsk'd. "Sorry. Seriously, though, your brother is totally wicked."

"Is he?" Hermione asked without thought, and then slapped a hand over her mouth. What the hell was she saying? She didn't want to know what Parkinson and her ex- were doing behind closed doors. Quickly finishing up her business, she flushed and made her way out to the sinks to wash her hands. Taking a look in the mirror, she used her wand to adjust her make-up and hair, setting it back perfectly, smoothing her dress down as well.

Pansy was at her side in a moment, washing up and primping, too. "Well, yeah, I've never known a man so into a woman's pleasure," the witch carried on without concern, smiling like the cat that ate the canary.

Lavender took the sink to Hermione's right. "That's odd. I always found Ron to be rather… submissive… in bed."

Hermione nodded. "Me, too." She turned to Parkinson. "Looks like you brought out the lion in him or something." She shrugged outwardly while mentally gagging on the visual internally.

Pansy stopped and looked in the mirror, but it was obvious her mind was a million miles away. She smiled gently, her dark eyes shimmering with softness. "Did I?"

Hermione looked at the other woman's reflection. Pansy seemed totally sincere. "Do you really like Ron? I thought you hated him before this game started. You've done nothing but antagonize each other for seven years."

Blinking out of her reverie, Slytherin's Queen considered her words, matching her stare in the reflective surface. "Yeah, that's funny, isn't it? But you know, now that I think about it, I was just letting House prejudice get in the way. I mean, Weasley's really rather handsome, he's got a killer bod, and he _definitely_ knows how to use it – sorry, She-Weasel!" She apologized quickly as Ginny came up alongside and pulled a face at the thought. "It's just that, well, he was a Gryffindor," the dark-haired witch continued. "For that reason, it was open season on him at any chance, you know?" Pansy looked down at her hands running under the cool water, her face suddenly a little sad. "It's too bad I let twisted rivalry between our Houses keep me from knowing him sooner. I wish…" She didn't finish the thought as she turned the faucet off and reached for a towel to dry her hands. Her eyes met Hermione's in the mirror again. "And what about you and Drake? It's the same story, isn't it?"

Hermione blinked, taken aback. "What about Malfoy and me?" Putting her back up, she bristled. "There's absolutely nothing going on between me and that slimy, git snake! I'm hoping the cards will keep it that way, too, and I can get out of here with nothing worse than maybe a grope or two."

Daphne joined them, followed by Tracey. Both blondes made for the empty sinks on the end. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Greengrass quoted _Hamlet_, washing her hands well with soap.

"I do not," Hermione objected, and immediately stopped, having proved Greengrass' point. "Whatever. I'm in the game to win. I'm not looking for a one-off, much less a boyfriend. And I am _not_ attracted to Draco _Ferret-Face _Malfoy."

Pansy smirked knowingly. "That fan work for you, Granger? Because I _still_ haven't cooled down from Malfoy's offer to let the woman of his dreams collar him, much less fuck him for hours and pleasure her in every way possible." She pretend shivered. "The imagery alone makes me sweaty." She stepped closer, lowered her voice as if imparting a wicked secret. "His cock is amazingly beautiful, and he knows how to use it, I promise you."

Hermione swallowed, feeling things low in her belly clench. "How… how do you know?"

Parkinson smirked nefariously. "He broke me in. It hurt _so good_. I _begged_ him for more."

_I will not be intimidated_, Hermione determined, holding Pansy's knowing, dark stare. "Good for you," she managed to sound unaffected, hiding the shaking that was threatening. Bully for her.

Tracey giggled. "Oh, stop, Pans. Let her figure it out on her own. That's the fun part."

Parkinson pointed at Davis. "And you – I _knew _you smelled like one of those hedgehogs."

"Hufflepuff's insignia is a badger, actually," Daphne pointed out, adjusting her glasses, using her wand to adjust her own skin and hair applications as well.

"And snogging Potter like that!" the brunette continued to tease. "That was some hot lip-lock, girl! Tell me, was he good in bed?"

Tracey blushed crimson. "We've only kissed," she admitted. "Although this round…" She tilted her head and smiled guiltily. "I can't wait!"

"Oooh, you've got it _bad_," Lavender piped in, shocked. "I recognize the signs."

Ginny elbowed her gently. "You're one to talk. Is Seamus _a la mode_ back on the menu?"

Lavender looked down at her toes. "I… suppose. I'm giving him a chance to make it up to me."

"Make what up?" Davis asked, her eyes as clear and trusting as a doe's. She really wasn't Slytherin material at all, was she? Everything about the girl screamed 'innocent.' Given that, it surprised Hermione to think that Tracey had joined a game like this one; she didn't seem a bit 'worldly' about sexual matters, so why had she been chosen for Slytherin's team?

Hermione's blonde roommate lightly shrugged. "We dated once, two years ago. It didn't work out. It was a bad break-up. He says he wants to win my heart back, though."

Tracey positively gushed, and she practically bounced over to Lavender's side, her hands pressed together over her heart. "Oh, that is _so_ romantic! He really loves you, then?"

Before Lavender could answer, Daphne took a step closer, whispering conspiratorily. "I have heard rumors about Mr. Finnegan's… well-known endowment… from the female students of my House. His is supposedly the longest and widest penis in school.I have heard it described as 'enormous' in fact."

"It is," Ginny, Lavender, and Pansy all confirmed unanimously, and then looked at each other in shock.

Ginny broke into giggles. "Oh, dear. Well."

"Blaise is no small joke, either, you know," Pansy knowingly threw Gin the hint.

Ginny's face reddened and an angry glint came to her eye. Was that… jealousy? She turned away to control her temper. "Yeah, well… we'll see, I guess."

Hermione thought she knew better, but took that as a good place for the conversation to end. There had been entirely too much sharing and probing for her comfort. "We're probably up on the twenty minutes by now. Everyone ready?"

"Oh! Pregnancy and disease charms!" Pansy reminded them, and every girl cast the proper spell on themselves.

"Thanks," Hermione nodded. Gods, if Malfoy did have a sex card this time… she'd almost forgotten. She'd have to be more vigilant in the future. "I'll remind us after every round, if you want." A chorus of unanimous nods approved of the plan.

Once they were ready, the ladies exited back into the main room. The men were all waiting for them, some of them sitting on the couches, others standing around talking, hands in pockets or arms crossed.

"Clock's ticking, witches," Malfoy reminded them. "Water and snacks on the table, if you want them." The women moved about helping themselves, as Slytherin's team leader kept talking. "So, does anyone have an action to perform before the group? Last chance." Shaking heads all around indicated they were free to move on. "Time, Potter?" Slytherin's leader asked.

"It's a minute past ten," Gryffindor's Captain replied, replacing his fob in his pocket.

"You've got until ten fifty-one, folks. Have fun," Malfoy grinned wickedly. "I know _I _will." With that, he turned on his heel and made for the room he and Hermione had claimed as their own, not looking back once.

"What an unbelievable git," Gin sighed from where she stood at Hermione's shoulder. She placed a hand on her arm. "Good luck, 'Mione."

As her friend made her way to Zabini's side, she raised a glass of water to her lips as she walked and took his outstretched fingers in her free hand, Hermione exhaled deeply, trying to calm her suddenly racing heart. "You, too, Gin. Luck to us both."

Grabbing her own glass, not hungry in the slightest, she made her way to her private chambers where Draco was already waiting.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**T.M.I. = Acronym for "too much information."**

**Sub = Short for "submissive." In a sexual relationship, one partner is generally seen as the more passive. Sometimes referred to as a "bottom," too.**

**Dom = Short for "dominant." In a sexual relationship, one partner is generally seen as the more assertive. Sometimes referred to as a "top," too.**

**Chode = An unusually small and fat penis.**

**Seamus speak key:**

**ain't = aren't **

**Capt'n = Captain **

**o' = of**

**ya = you**

**ta = to**

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Wicked Game" from Chris Issak. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**The world was on fire -  
no one could save me but you.  
Strange what desire will make foolish people do.  
I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you.  
And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you.**_

_**No, I don't want to fall in love...**_  
_**[This love is only gonna break your heart]**_  
_**No, I don't want to fall in love…**_  
_**[This love is only gonna break your heart]**_  
_**With you.**_

_**What a wicked game you play**_  
_**to make me feel this way.**_  
_**What a wicked thing to do**_  
_**to let me dream of you.**_  
_**What a wicked thing to say -**_  
_**you never felt this way.**_  
_**What a wicked thing to do**_  
_**to make me dream of you.**_

_**And I don't want to fall in love...**_  
_**[This love is only gonna break your heart]**_  
_**And I don't want to fall in love…**_  
_**[This love is only gonna break your heart]**_  
_**With you.**_

_**The world was on fire,**_  
_**no one could save me but you.**_  
_**Strange what desire will make foolish people do.**_  
_**I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you.**_  
_**I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you.**_

_**No, I don't wanna fall in love…**_  
_**[This love is only gonna break your heart]**_  
_**No, I don't wanna fall in love…**_  
_**[This love is only gonna break your heart]**_  
_**With you.**_  
_**With you.**_

_**Nobody loves no one.**_


	17. Chapter 4A: Blaise & Ginny

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER**__**: **__User__** "emilyneal" **__recommended the song, __**"The Touch, The Taste" by Asteria **__for Blaise & Ginny this go around. It perfectly reflects Blaise's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to emilyneal - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favourites, and reward you, as promised!**

_**P.S. **__**Unseenlibrarian**__ rocks the beta world! Everyone give her a __**BIG THANK YOU **__for making this chapter so clean and for catching a huge mistake I made in the writing originally. *singing like Tina Turner* "She's simply the best... better than all the rest..."_

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR (#1): Blaise & Ginny**

With a thought, the private room Blaise shared with his partner was purged of all moisture. With a second mental exercise, the room's décor morphed into various shades of blue, to interject an ocean of calm into their tempestuous relationship. The furniture stayed the same, but he did add a few more pillows to the bed.

Ginny had said nothing so far, though she was, gripping her water glass a little tightly in nervousness, he noted.

He shut the door behind them and brought her to the bed to sit, casually taking her glass from her hand and placing it on the floor by their feet. Turning towards her, he let his eyes roam over her pretty, freckled nose, trailing a path around her lips and back up to her eyes. "Are you sure you want to continue?" he offered. "My card's very sexual." He read it off to her:

_**DEED: Lick any one part on your partner's body. Your choice.**_

Ginevra swallowed, and read her own card to him:

_**DEED: Caress every inch of your partner's naked body, on the outside.**_

"I think we're pretty even this round," she replied, biting her bottom lip in clear consternation, lowering her eyes in a blush.

With two fingers under her chin, he tilted her face up to his. "No cowering, my lioness," he chided gently. "Decide what you want. I'll do as you wish."

Her dark russet gaze reflected a myriad of emotions – terror, curiosity, lust – before she firmed up her courage. "I want to know more about you," she told him bravely. "I want to touch you again."

Nodding, taking her word at face value, Blaise let her go and reached for her unbuttoned jacket, sliding it from her shoulders slowly, carefully. "Then, I'd like to perform my card first," he explained as he tossed the coat onto the far edge of the bed, reaching for the hem of her slip dress, slowly running his hands up her body as he removed it. "I want your pleasure first, Ginevra. I'll find mine through yours."

She allowed him to make her naked again – all except her stockings, which were too time-consuming to keep removing – and then he followed her into the middle of the bed as she crawled backwards, lying flat. Looming over her, he paused slightly to take in her open, hopeful expression. It was clear she was scared, but it wasn't of him so much as the fact that she was vulnerable now that he knew one of her greatest secrets. "I won't hurt you," he promised. "I'd like your permission to touch you everywhere freely. Will you grant it, my lioness?"

Swallowing back her nervousness, she nodded. "I give you permission to touch me and use your mouth on me freely, from now until the end of the game, not just this round."

Blaise's eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was definitely showing him unearned trust. He'd have to be equally as generous, so she wouldn't feel so exposed. "And I give _you_ permission to touch me and use your mouth on me freely, from now until the end of the game as well, Ginevra."

He felt her relieved exhale of hot breath against his skin, and the rigidity of her body lessened substantially.

"Take your clothes off," she bid, lowering her lids to half-mast and looking up at him with definite desire.

Blaise licked his lips, sorely tempted, but knew as soon as he did that he'd be up inside her, fucking her hard. He wanted to earn the trust she'd just given him so freely, and the way to do that was to show her how much he cherished her. So, it was with regret (and a lot of mental kicking) that he shook his head. "Not yet, Ginevra." He leaned down and kissed her as sweetly as he could manage, fighting off the shaking in his limbs caused by a rush of blood straight to his cock at the thought of bedding her. "Let me show you how much I… _care_ for you, first."

She shut her eyes, and he could see the moisture burning under the reddish-gold lashes. When she looked back up at him, her tears were barely being held in check. "Okay."

Dropping to his elbows, Blaise aligned their mouths perfectly and moved in to claim her lips again. He took his time licking, nipping, coaxing her into losing her control, taking her mouth with scorching need when she responded in kind. She mewled as their tongues clashed, as they slathered each other with flavourful desire, and he groaned when her fingernails scraped down his arms, smoothing the cool silk of his shirt against his heated, sensitive skin.

He moved his mouth along her jaw line, pressing light kisses to the flesh, flicking his tongue over her amber rose earring once before moving down the line of her throat. He stopped at a spot that made her twitch in his arms and concentrated on it, lathing it in circles. Ginevra turned her head to give him greater access and gripped his head, pulling him in tighter. "Please, leave a love bite right there," she begged, and Blaise didn't hesitate to give her what she asked for, sucking hard on the milky skin, gently scraping his teeth over the spot as well, making her gasp and squirm in his arms.

By the time he'd moved down to take her nipple into his mouth, Blaise was close to that point of no return himself, feeling hot lava burn through his loins. So little touching, and yet he was ready to spill his seed in his pants… Slytherin's soul, he wanted this girl more than any other he'd ever held!

As he nursed on her right breast, biting her nipple gently, he forced himself to calm, to find the sacred, quiet space inside that he reached for during competition so he could center himself once again. It was very difficult, however, with Ginevra's arching body, gasping breaths and greedy fingers pulling at his shirt, trying to remove it. Not lifting his mouth from its delicious task, Blaise gripped his lover's wrists and gently pinned them to the bed. He couldn't afford to be distracted if he wanted to do the right thing by her.

His attention moved to the other breast, and he mirrored his concentrated efforts to unravel her, as she was fast unmaking him, but as he'd always suspected, his little lioness was hardly one to lie back passively and be controlled. She thrust the hard point of her nipple between his lips. "Suck me, Blaise. Take me between your teeth and don't be gentle, for Godric's sake!"

He squeezed his eyelids shut tight and moaned, hearing words from her mouth he'd fantasized about for long months. He marked her exactly as she wanted, leaving an imprint of his teeth surrounding her pretty areola, bruising it with suction. He kissed and lapped sweetly over it immediately after, trying to soothe the sting he knew he'd created. Ginevra loved it all, though. "Yes, _oh, yes!_ Don't stop, Blaise!"

Coming up for air, he leaned back up and claimed her lips again, thrusting his delirious tongue between her lips, sipping at her mouth. Nuzzling her nose as he pulled away, he parted his eyelids a crack and looked for any doubt whatsoever in her face. His lioness stared back without fear, now, the fever of lust gripping her in its claws tightly. "I'm going down on you now," he told her matter-of-factly, still gripping her wrists in his firm grasp. "Tell me what you like best."

Ginevra wrapped her legs around his waist boldly, pulling his pelvis down with a strength he had suspected of her, but hadn't known about until just now. His throbbing, covered bulge met her core abruptly. "Suck on my clit gently, not hard. I don't like it hard. It's too sensitive," she told him bluntly.

Staring into her reckless features, Blaise wanted to tear all his clothes off right then and bury himself back inside, remembering the tight sensation of her gripping him… He nodded. "Guide me, Ginny. Teach me how to please you."

Loosening her legs, dropping them back to the bed, she spread herself wide for him. "When I touch myself, it's always soft at first. Just light teasing."

Blaise nodded his understanding, and moved down her body, letting her wrists go as he positioned himself at her pussy, getting a good look at her fully for the first time. Her vulva was just a shade or two darker than her natural skin tone, the lips were full, her clit was small and light pink. She didn't shave, but she was nicely trimmed and not too hairy, and the color was that same wild auburn as on her head. It was a really pretty cunny, truth be told. And she positively glistened with arousal. He hummed in pleasure as he moved in, smelling her unique scent and finding his mouth salivating for a taste from that alone. Pressing light kisses onto her lips and skin, he traced her shape, looking up at his lover to see her reaction.

Ginevra watched him with dilated pupils, bated breath, and parted lips. As he swiped at her clit for the first time, she moaned and her eyes rolled back into her head. "Yes," she hissed in pleasure, letting her head fall back completely. "Do it again."

Blaise was no amateur at oral sex; he'd had loads of experience with both women and men in this department and he didn't need direction. In this case, however, he wanted his witch to feel empowered, so he allowed her to dictate what she wanted from him, and he gave it to her until her commands were lost amongst the gasping cries of her mounting pleasure. At that point, he took over completely, knowing exactly what she needed to find her release. Holding onto her thighs, he worked his tongue into her entrance, moving deep inside, and licked the upper roof of her vagina as he simultaneously flicked with his finger just underneath the tiny flap of skin at the top of her slit. Rubbing both spots at the same time with equal pressure dragged her over the edge.

"_Oh, my God!_" Ginny screamed and orgasmed hard, arching her pelvis off the bed. Up the length of her body, her nipples got instantly hard, and Blaise reached with his free hand to tweak one at the same moment as he once more lapped inside her channel with his tongue and stroked her clit again with the fingers on his opposite hand. "Oh, God! _OH, GOD!_" she cried out, writhing under his assault of pleasurable bringing, her nails digging into the coverlet and tearing the fabric.

Blaise knew how to sustain this feeling for longer than average in a woman, and coerced his lover's body into compliance, pinching her tiny bead just right, igniting fire through her nerves. Ginevra's limbs tensed, jerked just as she was coming down from the high. She whimpered, as he brought on small electric shocks, and helped her ride them down until her sweaty, panting body had had enough stimulation for one go-around.

Lapping up the hot fluid that had rushed out of her entrance, he let one finger dare to once more rim the tiny hole underneath, tickling her sweet arse, using a combination of his saliva and her release for lubrication. All the while, he gently probed her vaginal canal with his tongue, slowly moving in and out in a lazy slide meant to connect in her mind the idea that only pleasure could come from him touching her in her "forbidden spot." He didn't go inside her rear, only traced it, let her become used to the idea, making the connection.

After a minute or two, he pulled away entirely, working back up her body. He stopped to rim her bellybutton, then to trace and tug at both nipples gently, then lapped back over the bruise he'd left on her neck before finally coming to rest on her lips again. "You taste so sweet, my Ginevra," he murmured into her mouth in between kisses. "I've dreamed of making you come like that."

Her hands were everywhere on him suddenly, aggressively unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it from his shoulders roughly. "I've never orgasmed that hard in my life," she confessed breathlessly, letting her fingernails lightly trace over his nipples and down his six-pack abs. "Let me make you feel good, too." Her hands tore at his belt, flipping it open, unbuttoned his slacks and unzipped his fly quickly, tearing at his trousers and pants, jerking them down. "Off," she commanded him as she feasted at his lips hungrily. "All the way off. I want to make you come, too." She grinned up at him naughtily in between licking her sticky fluid off his lips. "I'm taking full advantage of my card."

Even as he stripped his clothes completely away, and Blaise's heart leapt from his ribcage in joy at her words, he fought his natural compulsion, reminding himself not to take his fiery redheaded lover's quim just yet. There was still too much mental damage he had to undo, and he needed this to be done right so neither of them would ever regret their time together. He'd already moved too fast last round, joining their bodies as desperately as he had in the heat of the moment, and the result was now this burning drive for them to fuck fast - which wasn't the ideal. They could shag like rabbits any time, but the first time, it needed to be softer, more loving.

"I'm really close to losing it," he warned her, breathing raggedly, pressing his forehead into her shoulder and looking down the length of their bodies as she grabbed a hold of him again. Lifting his head, shuddering under the power of her fingers stroking his length, he looked her in the eye. "Just grip me hard and stroke firm. I'll come quickly that way."

Before he could react to prevent her action, Ginny once more wrapped her strong thighs about his waist and pulled him down on top of her. Blaise collapsed to his elbows from the unexpected wrenching, and his naked cock now rested in between two very exposed, soaking wet folds. "Ginny, no, don't! I want it to be special the first time."

"It will be," she reassured him, adjusting her hips so that he slid down her slit to her entrance.

With an insane strength of will, Blaise fought off his relentless craving to bury himself inside once more, and pulled back, readjusting the angle of his hips so that his thighs would prevent her yanking him back down the same way twice. At the same time, he grabbed her hand and forced it around his aching, steel shaft. He was dripping wet already; so much that the action of her palm and fingers rubbing the length of his penis wasn't in the least bit painful, but entirely too pleasurable. He groaned, locking eyes on her. "I'm going to make love to you so good the first time, my lioness," he promised her, even as he tensed up all of his lower muscles, feeling the burn through his loins. "I'll take you slow and sweet, burying myself all the way in you." He gasped and closed his eyes for a moment as he mounted his climax, his breath coming in deep gasps now. "I'll love you with such passion, you'll forget any other man's touch," he rasped, shuddering as that pressure built to the point of pain, signaling it was time. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to hers in a starved kiss, and then pushed away slightly. "Watch how you unmake me, Ginevra. Watch."

With that, he shut his eyes and let go of his control completely. His breath exploded from his lungs and his blood roared in his ears as he cried out for his witch and released his seed all over her in hot spurts of clear-white spray that coated her lower belly. He saturated her red-gold curls and filled her bellybutton with his fluid, even as his bollocks pulsed violently in one of the most seriously satisfying orgasms he'd ever experienced. After the initial release subsided a bit, residual seminal fluid ran all down their combined fingers, and Blaise continued to pump Ginny's hand over him weakly a few more times, spurting the last of his come, emptying himself onto her body.

When it was done, he let her hand go and sat back on his haunches, trying to regain control of his heart and lungs and shaking limbs. After a minute or two, he looked up tiredly. His Gryffindor firebrand was propped up on her elbows, looking down at the mess he'd made all over her.

"Sorry," he managed to conjure a towel and moved to clean her up. "Let me."

Blaise could feel her gaze upon him as he worked, but neither said anything for several minutes, both lost in their own thoughts. When he was done wiping away every trace of his spill, even the bit that had dripped between her slit and into her entrance, he threw the towel carelessly to the side and crawled back towards her. "It occurs to me that I've put you at risk twice now." He reached up and tucked some stray hair behind her ear. "I'm so sorry for that. Did you cast the contraceptive charm last round and this one to protect yourself?"

Ginevra nodded, her brown-gold eyes watching him circumspectly. "I cast it earlier."

He let out a sigh of relief. "Good."

Neither moved nor spoke again for dozens of heartbeats. There was a strange awkwardness between them now, and for the first time in a long time, Blaise found himself unsure as to how to handle a woman. "Ginevra, I-"

With a sultry, lazy stretch, she moved to cover his mouth with her own. It was a sweet kiss that made his stomach flutter. "Thank you," she murmured as she kissed down his chin, over his throat, biting him with a bit of sensual pressure over his pulse. He gasped as tiny electric shocks raced up his spine, warming his blood. "For… _caring_… for me," she whispered in his ear. "For making me feel so good. For letting me see you lose control." Her petite hands came up and gripped his shoulders, pulling them both back down. Blaise flowed with her until she was flattened into the mattress once more. "I want it again," she seduced him, biting, licking, kissing on his throat. "I want you to touch me again. I want to touch you at the same time." She kissed his lips passionately. "Say yes, Blaise," she coaxed, rubbing her thighs enticingly against his, bringing his cock back to life instantaneously. He felt the skin of his penis stretch, drawing back tight to reveal his crown and knew he was going to give in without a fight.

"_Gods, yes,_" he agreed fervently, even as he reached for her soft, damp folds again, dipping his fingers in and inflaming her desire. "Know me, Ginevra - the _real _me."

With bold, greedy hands she met his erection once more, stroking over his flesh with sly, wicked touches. He gasped at the same time as she did, and then buried two fingers up and inside her, parting her flesh with exquisite tenderness. "You're so soft inside," he murmured against her mouth, continuing to plunder the depths of her oral crevice even as he did so below through a different set of lips. "Tight and wet. I love how you feel, taste, smell. You're magnificent here," he flicked his thumb over her clit, making her moan, feeling the sticky juices between his fingers saturate his skin.

His witch mewled as he tickled the upper lip of her entrance again. "Blaise," she sighed against his mouth, "you feel so perfect. I can't… believe you want me."

He buckled his supporting arm and fell onto his elbow again, bringing their bodies into direct contact once more. "I want you, my lioness," he growled into her mouth, taking her lips a little roughly, staking his claim. "So much that for years I've pleasured myself only to thoughts of you." He kept the pace of his fingers nice and slow, not quite ready to let them find their endings just yet. "I've wanted you from the first moment you sat on your broom across from me and stared me down. Do you remember what you said to me then?"

Ginny shook her head, seeking desperately for more of his kiss, whimpering when he withheld it while he stroked her cheek with his free hand and watched her frustration mount. He ignored her tugging on his cock to get his attention back where she felt it belonged, and instead brushed his lips over her cheeks, jaw, and chin. "You said you were going to keep me from scoring, even if you had to knock me from my broom. Then you apologized with that evil, little grin of yours and I knew you really weren't sorry at the prospect of dumping me on my backside." He chuckled low, picked up the pace of his rhythm in and out of her body. "I got so hard when you grinned at me that first time that I nearly fell off my broom without any other help from you." He finally gave her the kiss she was begging for. "You are my kind of wicked, Ginevra. I knew it then."

Her toned legs wrapped about him again, and her hands guided the tip of him up and down her lower lips. "Wicked like this?" she challenged, bringing his crown right next to his fingers buried inside her.

Blaise hissed at the exquisite feel of her soft skin rubbing against his. He could feel the spurting of his pre-seminal fluid all over her, and he withdrew his fingers just enough to add her own juices to the mix before plunging back into her warmth. He dragged his mouth off her lips and across her face to her ear, where he proceeded to whisper naughty delights. "Do you like the feel of my cock against you? Did you like how I split you open, filled you up before?"

Ginny groaned against the skin of his throat. "I loved you inside me," she purred back. "I want you there again, Blaise."

He ran his hot mouth all over every inch of skin he could reach. "Soon," he promised. "But I want us to have this time to learn more about each other first." He buzzed her lips again. "Can you be that patient, my lioness?"

She huffed in frustration. "No, not really."

He actually laughed, then rewarded her honesty with a deeper, faster thrust of his fingers. "Sorry, love, but this will have to be enough for now." With that, he dragged himself quickly back down her body and latched onto her clit again with his mouth, fucking her with his hand and his mouth simultaneously. "Show me the real you again, Ginevra," he commanded darkly, nibbling on her sensitive skin. "Give me all of you. Hold nothing back. Feel."

He dominated her pleasure then, bringing her to the brink, backing off, reasserting her desire, guiding it with skillful manipulations of his fingers and tongue and lips, alternating pressures and temperatures – blowing on her with cool wisps, then breathing hot air – until she was a writhing bundle of nerves crackling with energy and desperate for release.

"Give it to me, Blaise," she begged loudly. "Make me come! I need to come!"

Just as he brought her over, he gently entered her back entrance with one pre-moistened finger, slowly piercing her as the apex of her orgasm hit. "_BLAISE!_" she screamed in ecstasy, rippling around his fingers, every muscle in her body taut with pleasure, her facial expression unbridled, her joy unleashed, worry and pain and fear for once abandoned. In those seconds, she was glorious to behold, her long, crimson hair flaring about her, her white skin tinged with a light sprinkling of freckles offsetting the brilliant sapphire blue of the bed coverlet. Her nipples were peaked tight, her lips were swollen and ruby-colored – both sets, above and below – and her dark honey eyes locked onto his with sincere warmth and affection.

"I love you," he whispered against her tiny, pink clit so softly he knew she wouldn't hear. He'd said it more for himself, anyway, to finally admit the truth aloud so he could never again hide from it.

Panting hard, her chest rising and falling in a mad rhythm, Ginny lay limply back into the bed, her lids shut, a brilliant smile plastered to her face. With great care, he slid his fingers out of her body, wiping them on the coverlet, and then angled himself back up the bed, snuggling alongside her. Taking her in his arms, he pulled her up and onto his chest, needing to cuddle with her just then, wanting her to feel safe and secure after what he'd just done to her.

"Are you angry with me?" he asked finally, gently petting her hip with one hand, while the other played with her hair, learning the texture of the silken strands, entranced by the brilliant color against his mocha skin tone.

Wearily lifting her head, she looked him in the eye. "No. It didn't scare me either. I thought it would, but it didn't hurt."

The knot of fear in Blaise's chest loosened and he let out a shaky breath, not realizing until just that second how terrified he was that he might have hurt her after promising he wouldn't. "Did you like it?"

She took some time to think about it. Blaise didn't push. He let the silence ride between them, waiting patiently for the truth. "I'm not sure. I was a little preoccupied at that moment to really give it serious thought." She paused again, licked her lips nervously, and met his gaze tentatively. "Maybe… if we went slowly, maybe you could… help me find out."

Brushing her hair from her face, Blaise lost himself in her earnest expression. "We will go slow. I'll make it good for you, I promise."

She gave him a trusting smile.

The remaining few minutes, they held each other in silence, touching each other with gentle, slow, exploratory fingers. It was a sweet learning that profoundly moved Blaise's heart. The depth of his feelings for Ginevra left him floating on an unfathomable sea of emotion. This, whatever it was, it transcended love. He would give her anything she desired, he would hold nothing back from her.

_I am yours_, he spoke to her with his soul.

The chimes rang just then. Without a word, they moved to re-dress, helping each other. When they were both properly attired again, they held hands as they walked to the exit, smiling shyly at each other. Ginny opened the door, and they headed for the couches. As she made to let him go to take her seat, Blaise felt a momentary stab in his chest, as if letting her go even for a few minutes was too long. Tugging her back into his arms, he lowered his lips and collected her kiss again, uncaring of any voyeurs to their exhibitionism.

Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth from hers, but neither of them seemed to want to let go of the other. Her arms around his neck were a comfortable weight, his around her waist a perfect counter. They fit together nicely.

They fit together perfectly.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

******PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter? **

.

**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "The Touch, The Taste" by Asteria. Lyrics are as follows…**

_**So this is it, the feeling that I've missed…  
A subtle kind of pain that keeps me from sleep.  
I try to explain how your touch drives me insane,  
And I can't spend a night without wishing I was with you.**_

_**I wanna tell you a secret, and leave it on your lips.**_  
_**Wanna sing it through your body.**_  
_**Wanna tell it through this kiss.**_  
_**If I told you my secret, would you swear to keep it?**_  
_**Would you swear to keep it?**_

_**Watching you dance and seeing you smile,**_  
_**Still getting butterflies every once in a while.**_  
_**Feelings insist I'm falling,**_  
_**(I) twist on lust.**_  
_**A choice to care…**_  
_**A wish to touch…**_

_**I wanna tell you a secret, and leave it on your lips.**_  
_**Wanna sing it through your body.**_  
_**Wanna tell it through this kiss.**_  
_**If I told you my secret, would you swear to keep it?**_  
_**Would you swear to keep it?**_

_**When you say never, I'll say lie.**_  
_**When you say always, I'll say true.**_  
_**When you say love, I'll say you.**_  
_**I'll say you.**_  
_**I'll say you.**_  
_**I'll say you.**_  
_**I'll say you!**_

_**I wanna tell you a secret, and leave it on your lips.**_  
_**Wanna sing it through your body.**_  
_**Wanna tell it through this kiss.**_  
_**If I told you my secret, would you swear to keep it?**_  
_**Would you swear to keep it?**_


	18. Chapter 4B: Theodore & Daphne

**__****CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **_User_**__**** "PhoenixPixie" **_recommended the song, **"Rollacosta" by Robin Thicke & Estelle **for Theo & Daphne this go around. It perfectly reflects Theo's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to PhoenixPixie - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! ****I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

_**P.S. Unseenlibrarian** totally made this chapter amazing (you can thank her for once more catching a BIG error of mine and almost screwing up the cards, as well as giving me the opportunity to show more of Daphne's relenting to Theo here). SAY THANK YOU TO HER, PLEASE!_

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter? **

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR (#2): Theodore & Daphne**

Theo practically skipped into the private room he shared with Daphne, immediately dragging his shirt over his head and tossing it onto the white-on-white bedspread nearby even before his partner had closed the door behind her. He hurriedly unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks, and scrambled to drag them and his pants down at the same time, kicking them off and leaving them where they lay on the floor while hurriedly making his way over to the Tantra Chair (he _had_ to get one of these things for his flat once he moved into his own place this August). Sitting in the position his lover wanted, Theo waited, head bowed, hands resting on his thighs, his action card held securely under his left palm, face-down against his skin.

Daphne's soft slippered feet approached from the side, and instantly, Theo's erection hardened in anticipation. He didn't even try to hide it, knowing from the glimmer in her eye last round that she thought his cock was good meat. And it was. Not that he was boasting (okay, maybe a little), but he'd compared himself to others in the showers (what bloke didn't?), and he knew where he stood – above average length and width, nice looking foreskin and tip, tight balls, not too hairy. Yeah, he was quite happy with his boy… and he could tell Daphne liked it as well.

"Stand, Theo, and recite the text on your card for me," his sexy witch commanded him in a soft voice.

He got his feet under him and turned the red card over. "Yes, My Queen."

_**DEED: Your partner must list out loud at least 10 good things about you. **_

"Personally, I was hoping for an oral sex one," he grinned, shrugging. "But this could be fun, too. Or would you rather take my card this round as well? I don't mind."

Daphne straddled the chair behind him, wrapping her arms about him lovingly. "Your gift is again very generous, beloved. I accept it. In reward, you'll have _this_ to look forward to." She brought her card up so he could read it himself:

_**FORFEIT: Kiss your partner as if they were your whole world. Put your entire experience, heart and soul into the effort. **_

Theo's heart did a little jig. Oh, yeah, they were going to snog-out finally! He'd been looking forward to that since the beginning of last round, when Daphne had admitted to him in private that she'd wanted him as her partner in bed and no other.

"Your heart is beating faster, my Theo," she purred in his ear seductively. "Are you looking forward to our first kiss then?"

He nodded enthusiastically and tilted his head back so that he lay against her soft shoulder. "Hell, yeah, My Queen. I want your lips all over me. Your hands, too." He shut his eyes and sighed in longing. "I want you to tear into me, Daphne. I want _you_."

"Do you?" she nuzzled his temple with her nose. "And why is that, precisely? Expound upon your analysis, as your card requires."

Inhaling deeply, letting himself fall back fully into her embrace, Theo relaxed and thought of all the reasons why he wanted this witch for his own. "To start, you have the most entrancing eyes, My Queen."

Her lips rested upon the shell of his ear. "In what way?" she whispered the question, making electric tingles race up and down his spine.

Theo hummed in pleasure at the sensation and let his inner poet peek out for a bit (sure, even he could be romantic at times - when he could be bothered to try). "They're not quite grey, not perfectly blue, but something in between, like… the waters of the lake outside the castle. They're mysterious and deep. Sometimes I wonder what goes on behind them."

His Queen's fingers drew light circles over the skin on his bared pecks. The sensation was lulling and comfortable. "I was not aware that you were acutely attentive to such small physical nuances, Theo," his partner admitted.

"I'm Slytherin," he replied nonchalantly. "I _do_ notice things – like you staring at me all this last week when you didn't think I was looking."

Daphne hummed in consideration. "I see I have underestimated you. Interesting. That's one down; however, and you still have nine more to go," she reminded him in a playfully sultry tone.

"You're… dedicated and meticulous to detail," he pointed out with a grin, purposefully picking a learned skill to counter her innate physical beauty. "I don't know how you can perform all of the duties of a Prefect, and help to plan the various dances and events for the students on top of studying for N.E.W.T.s and helping to tutor your sister. I'm surprised you're not mental from such a busy schedule and such pressure."

He felt Daphne's slender shoulder shrug. "It is no different from your learning a surfeit of Quidditch tactical maneuvers, perfecting them, training your body for long hours to assure you are in peak physical shape, as well as studying for your N.E.W.T.s – all of which you accomplished this year, Theo."

He frowned slightly. He'd never thought of anything he'd had to do for Quidditch as work. It had always just been fun. Now that he thought about it, though, he realized it could be seen in such a light. On average, he'd spent ten hours a week on the back of his broom, zooming about the pitch with the team. And he, Malfoy, and Zabini went to the weight room to work-out every other night for two hours at a time, spotting each other at weights, and challenging each other in crunches, pulls, and fast rope skipping.

"All right, that one kind of fizzled. How about this: you've got the sexiest vocabulary I've ever encountered," he grinned cheekily, glancing at her over his shoulder. "I think you're the smartest girl in school, honestly - even more so than Granger. That dictionary you carry around in your head and spout out in normal conversation makes me _super_ hard for you."

His partner's laugh was elated. "Indeed? Then you may consider that I perform for your auditory pleasure, if it further amplifies your fascination in my person."

Theo shut his eyes again and moaned. "That's what I'm talking about!" He gripped his cock in his hand and began stroking slowly up and down. "See what you do to me, My Queen? Just your voice…" He hissed and opened his eyes, watching his fingers glide over his length expertly. "You make me want to come just listening to you, Daphne."

A gentle kiss touched his cheek, and her eyelashes tickled him softly in passing. "I will give you permission to bring yourself, my Theo… but only _after_ you have concluded your inventory of my attributes." He hummed a small, frustrated, defeated sigh and let go of himself, only to have Daphne's hand wrap around his and brought them together back to his dick a moment later. "You may continue stroking your penis, my lovely wizard. I am a natural voyeur for your activities, as you well know."

"Ahhh… thank you, My beautiful, luscious Queen," he sighed in deep satisfaction, allowing his hand to caress back over his length leisurely, careful not to build up his excitement too fast, for he had a list to finish first. Daphne let him go, her arms returning to cradle him, to gently glide over the flesh of his hard abs and chest.

"Pray, continue," she dictated authoritatively, and Theo couldn't help the smirk that crawled up his face at her imperious tone. Gods, he could seriously fall for this woman!

He considered all he knew of Daphne from watching her on and off for the last few months. "You move more gracefully than any woman I've ever known. When you crossed the room to me last round, you just seemed to glide, and your hips…" He shook his head in amazement. "Fucking sexy, My Queen."

"Mmmm… I like that observation in particular," his lover purred, stroking over his nipples, causing the heat in his balls to burn. "Do go on."

Swiping his thumb over his crown to smear some of the pre-cum up and down, making his stroking easier, Theo settled back even more heavily into his woman. "Your perfume is exotic and tempts me to want to get closer. Every time I smell it, I just want to press my nose into your throat and inhale while fucking you nice and slow against the wall in a dark corner."

Her lips inched around his cheek, placing soft kisses. "Perhaps I will give you that opportunity during this game, my Theo."

His hand on his todger unconsciously tightened and he shoved through his fingers, urged on by a surge of his hips. "Oh, yeah, I'd love to shag you just like that once in my life. I'd go nice and deep inside you…" He moaned and watched himself wanking, building up slowly.

"Focus, my sexy wizard," Daphne reminded him, tapping his heart with a fingernail. "Six more compliments are due."

Theo chuckled. "Sorry, My Queen. I'm aching to get off. I'll try to do better to control myself."

"Yes, Theo, impulse control is a skill you will perfect during this game," she submitted matter-of-factly, putting her hand back over his, slowing his rhythm down to a crawl. "This is your first lesson. Take your time fostering your orgasm. Enjoy every petite sensation, experience it fully. It will make the culmination all the sweeter, I promise."

He grunted. "This is the longest I've gone with wood without taking care of it. It's difficult."

Her lips were back at his ear, coaxing with that husky, sexy voice of hers, her hand continuing to move right along with his. "Your partner will believe you to be the most tender and fantastic lover in the universe if you can sustain yourself within the confines of her welcoming vagina. You could bring her multiple times in a single session, as well as yourself, if you follow the rule of patience and restraint. Sex will be wholly, unreservedly fulfilling if you have faith in my instruction in this matter. Do you entrust your education to me, my Theo?"

Swallowing hard, Theo tried to picture making a woman orgasm multiple times for him. He'd never accomplished it, usually too fast to find his own release. He'd love to reach that level of control and nodded earnestly. "I trust you, My Queen. I'll do whatever you want."

Her hand allowed a few more mutual passes over his length before it removed itself again, returning to its previous resting spot. "Continue with your accolades of my qualities, and do not increase the pace of your stroking. I command it."

Shit, hearing her say it that way made sweat break out on his upper lip. He loved when she bossed him around!

Focusing on his list, he tried to ignore what his hand was doing (could he ask for anything more impossible to accomplish?), and came up with his next flattery. "Hell, your sexual knowledge is unprecedented. How in Merlin's mystery did you learn this stuff? I've been fucking for a while now, and I read _PlayWitch_, but I've never even heard of tantric sex or multiple orgasms for a guy."

"Perhaps I will have an opportunity to enlighten you on the subject during this game, if the cards allow," she furtively answered.

"I hope so," he grinned. "I'd love to go to whatever school you went to for this stuff. Maybe you could take me there sometime?"

When she didn't say anything in return, an awkward silence ensued, and it finally occurred to him that he'd just made an offer for them to have something outside of the game… something she'd been crystal clear about not wanting to pursue from the beginning. That thought pained him some, making his erection droop a bit. As if sensing his sudden distress, Daphne's hand moved purposefully to wrap about his once more, helping him to regain what he'd lost. Focusing on the motion of her tiny fingers around his cock, trying to force his attention back to the here and now, to enjoy what he _could_ get from her, Theo attempted to shut out everything else for the moment. He shut his eyes, tilting his neck back, and sighed forlornly. "Daphne…"

"What other worth do I hold in your eyes, beloved?" she asked quickly, trying to bring them back to the topic and avoid a discussion of the subject, he knew.

Giving in for the moment, he thought up another item. "You're the most self-possessed woman I've ever met. You know what you want and aren't afraid to ask for it. That confidence is bloody sexy." Opening his eyes, chewing his bottom lip as they stroked together a little faster and his erection was fully renewed, hard and ready, he thought up another one. "You're magically powerful. I've seen you cast hexes in D.A.D.A. and Charms that amaze me with your strength. I think this one and your confidence go hand-in-hand actually."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Daphne adjusted her glasses with her free hand, then replaced it immediately over his peck and swirled her fingers lazily over his nipple. "They do. The secret to being a powerful witch or wizard is having the utmost confidence that the spell you will cast is going to perform exceptionally well. This is especially true for wandless magic. Most practitioners fail to master such spells because they feel the loss of their wand, and forget that the magic comes from within them. The wand is merely a focus, endowed with properties to aid in the centering of one's energies, but one's hand can perform the same service just as easily with practice."

He glanced up over his shoulder at her. "No shit?"

Daphne's smirk became positively wicked. The hand on his cock stilled, her fingers wiggled and _sotto voce_, she murmured a spell. Instantly, Theo's dick tingled with gentle warmth that caused his sack to tighten and his tip to weep with pre-seminal fluid. "Oh, fuck!" he moaned in bliss. "What was that?"

"A lust spell," she evenly informed him. "Would you like me to nullify it?"

Bloody hell, his cock was throbbing with the need to reach its completion. "I thought you wanted me to learn self-control and restraint," he panted, taking both of their hands off of his dick. "I can't learn that if you make me jizz everywhere so quickly. So… yeah, reverse it quick or I'm going to come any second."

Daphne kissed his sweaty forehead. "You have pleased me exceedingly with your response, beloved." Wiggling her fingers again, his partner invalidated the spell upon him, and immediately, Theo's urgency to climax eased back. He was still painfully hard, but not on the edge any longer, much to his relief. "Your willingness to master this test makes me want to reward you. When you are ready to ejaculate, I will recast the spell. Your orgasm will be amazingly delicious." Her hand aided his in once more returning to gripping his cock and stroking. "Finish your final admirations and I will set you free, my dearest."

Enjoying their joint fondling of his privates immensely, Theo bit back on the longing to increase their pace, wanting to learn the secrets to being a good lover. He planned on cramming as many of Daphne's lessons into his brain as he could during the next several hours, and to perfect as many of them as possible so he could use them on her later when he tried to convince her that they belonged together. He had firmly decided to pursue her when this game was over, regardless of his previous promise, because now that he knew her better, he found that he _really_ dug on her. Greengrass was an awesome catch – smart, beautiful, of good stock, sexually adventuresome, and he intuitively knew that she had a sleeveful of tricks to keep him interested for a long time.

Yep, she was the girl for him - hands down. No fighting it anymore.

Now, he only needed to convince her to allow his suit…

Closing his eyes again, he grit his teeth, ignoring the building burn at the base of his shaft. "We'd make cute, pure-blood Slytherin babies. My snobby family would heartily approve. I think yours would, too."

Her hand faltered a bit. "Theo…"

A first warning.

Knowing he was in trouble, Theo cut off the inevitable chastisement with his final veneration: "You, My Queen, are extremely caring. Remember how stressed Astoria was during her O.W.L examinations? That small bouquet of wildflowers you conjured for her on the fly to cheer her up... it was lovely. That was one of my most favorite uses of magic, ever."

Daphne's hands on him completely stilled and her voice was strangely soft, almost hesitant. "One of your favorites? Truly?"

It was the first time he'd ever heard Daphne Greengrass sound less than confident. He paused in his self-pleasuring to consider that and looked again over his shoulder to meet her eye. "Yes. It really was quite a thoughtful and beautiful display of magic. Most people use magic for selfish reasons – to get something done they don't want to do, or to fix a mistake they've made, or to give them some sort of advantage. You used it simply out of love for your sister."

Assessing cornflower-colored eyes measured his sincerity, even as two blooms of red blossomed in Daphne's cheeks. "Thank you… for saying that." Her voice strove to be even and controlled, but at the end, there was a slight trembling vulnerability in the tone.

Something shifted between them in that moment and Theo felt emboldened to take advantage. Turning completely around in his seat, dislodging her hands from his body in the process, he reached up to remove Daphne's glasses. "Theo…" she warned a second time on a growl, her features tightening up with shocked anger, but he silenced her with a finger across her lips, dropping her lenses carefully to the white carpeted floor.

"I want that kiss now, My Queen. Your card says you have to do it, and I _want_ it." Grabbing the undersides of her legs, he dominantly yanked her forward and onto his lap, wrapping his arms about her securely. The hem of her dress rode up, and with one hand, he skimmed it up even further, gripping her rounded hip. He pulled her a little roughly into intimate contact with his body. Separated only by the satin of her knickers, Theo's cock begged for instantaneous fulfillment. "Call it my belated birthday gift," he breathed, buzzing her lips, staring her in the eyes through a half-lidded gaze. He _had_ turned eighteen just this last month.

Huffing quick breaths against her cheek, he watched her carefully, waiting. Her card was specific – she had to initiate the kissing part - but she seemed frozen between her justified anger at him and the lust for him that he could feel burning through him in her stare. "Slap me now if you need to," he offered in a pleading voice, hoping to override her ire with a little begging. "Hate me for forcing this, punish me later, but I've _got to_ have you, Daphne. _Please_, give me your kiss_._"

It took half a minute more before his witch made her choice not to walk out the door on him (much to his HUGE relief!). It had been touch and go there for those long, nerve-wracking seconds, but when her frown gradually transformed, tilting upwards at the edges with grudging approval and admiration for his audacity, Theo knew he'd won her over. Relenting fully to his impudent request, her hands smoothed up his chest, over his shoulders, and her fingers tangled in his hair instead. Gripping tightly, causing his blood to rush through him from head to toe, she regained her confident command of the situation, staring him down with wicked determination. "Happy Birthday, beloved." With that, she closed her eyes and sealed the miniscule distance between them.

The kiss was the most perfect Theo had ever received. It was hot, demanding, wet and wanton. It held nothing back, gave and took all, and impossibly promised even more with every pull of lips. He gasped into Daphne's mouth, his mouth smacking against hers with fierce, wild desire. Her tongue thrust crazily in between the gap and tangled up with his, possessing him, boldly declaring that he was hers, that she would rock his world inside out, and at the same time, stated unequivocally that he _was_ her whole world back. "_Fuck, yeah!_" he whimpered, tightening his arms about her, and slamming his fingers through her long, soft hair, holding on.

Her fingers wiggled against his skull and she whispered something a second before a volcano erupted through his blood, shooting straight through his center. Throwing his head back as his whole body arched from the currents of electricity firing down his spine, Theo shouted Daphne's name as his cock exploded with pleasure. His come burst out of him in pulse after pulse of hot, throbbing gushes that saturated the front of her panties and her lower abdomen, staining her dress. He could hardly breathe from the pressure as his chest squeezed tightly and behind his eyelids, fireworks exploded in a myriad of colors.

It took at least ten seconds for him to come down off the initial high, and then another half a minute for his body to stop squirting his seed everywhere. His balls _ached_. "Daphne… oh, _God_, Daphne…" He clung to her, pressing his nose into her neck, inhaling her sexy, sultry perfume just as he'd wanted. His lungs felt grated, his throat raw. "Sweetheart…" He dragged his mouth over her skin, slamming it down over hers again, kissing her with passion and need.

They kissed for a long time – well, long for Theo, who had never spent more than a few minutes on foreplay of any kind with a woman. The act itself was physically and emotionally satisfying, and he realized in those moments what he'd been missing, craving in his sexual conquests for so long: a connection. He'd found it with Daphne.

Pulling back, he touched her cheeks softly and gave her his most melting smile. "You were right: amazingly delicious." Looking down at his flaccid, tired member, and the mess he'd made all over them both, he couldn't help but grin wide. "Oops."

Daphne laughed again, and it was a pretty sound, drawing his attention back to her face. Her eyebrow was arched. "You have an astounding ability to assert the obvious with a concision of words, Theo."

He waggled his eyebrows back at her. "And you do just the opposite, My Queen."

"Impudent man," she chided him gently, and stood, shucking her dress and undergarments and shoes, heading towards the opposite wall of the room where there appeared a shower. She looked over her shoulder at him as the water began falling over her body. "Surely, you do not intend to present yourself to the group looking so bedraggled, beloved? Come, join me. We have ten minutes remaining until call."

Jumping up like a puppy after an enticing squeaky toy, Theo joined his witch under the shower, allowing her to clean him off with a soft cloth and body soap that was scented the same as his cologne. As she finished washing him down, switching to a soap that carried her own scent (gods, he loved this room!), he sniffed both small bottles of the liquid soaps and looked at her with curiosity.

"Your cologne is exotic, Theo, and tempts me to want to get closer," she used his words back at him with a naughty, enticing smile. "Every time I smell it, I just want to press my nose into your throat and inhale while fucking you nice and slow against the wall in a dark corner."

He gave her a slow, evil smile in return. "Perhaps I will give you that opportunity during this game, sweetheart."

With that, they hopped out and dried each other off. Theo threw on his clothes quickly and ran out into the common area just as the chimes rang, grabbed his wand off the table and returned to his private room to _Scourgify_ the mess off from Daphne's clothes, and drying both of their hair with a quick spell.

When she was re-dressed, he boldly took her hand and guided her out into the main room, asserting in public his claim over Daphne by kissing her quickly before sitting back into the sofa. To his pleased wonder, she blushed while readjusting her glasses, apparently forgetting to give him his third warning for daring to step over the line again.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Rollacosta" by Robin Thicke & Estelle. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**Slap me in my face, punch me in the eye,**_  
_**Do me how you want me, baby, just don't say goodbye.**_  
_**Tell me I'm no good, Tell me I'm not right,**_  
_**Just let me lay beside you when you fall asleep tonight.**_

_**Rollacosta, **_  
_**Throw your hands up,**_  
_**Take me to the top.**_  
_**Rollacosta,**_  
_**Upside down,**_  
_**I never wanna stop.**_  
_**Rollacosta,**_  
_**Take me to the limit,**_  
_**To the top,**_  
_**Rollacosta…**_  
_**Make you scream.**_  
_**Make you scream.**_  
_**Make you scream.**_

_**Take me back,**_  
_**Take me back,**_  
_**One more time around the track.**_  
_**One more time,**_  
_**Just one more time.**_  
_**Make me ride with you tonight.**_  
_**Here we go,**_  
_**Round and round,**_  
_**Twist and turning,**_  
_**Heading out.**_  
_**One more time.**_  
_**Oh, one more time.**_  
_**Tell me that you know I…**_  
_**Tell me that you know I…**_  
_**(What I need)**_

_**It's special.**_  
_**It's true love.**_  
_**It's Rollacosta.**_

_**Hate me in the morning, sex me up at noon,**_  
_**Look at me for dinner, baby, tease me with your food.**_  
_**Get mad at me for drinking, shout at me to stop,**_  
_**But you know I'm the only one that ever hits your spot.**_

_**Rollacosta, **_  
_**Throw your hands up,**_  
_**Take me to the top.**_  
_**Rollacosta,**_  
_**Upside down,**_  
_**I never wanna stop.**_  
_**Rollacosta,**_  
_**Take me to the limit,**_  
_**To the top,**_  
_**Rollacosta…**_  
_**Make you scream.**_  
_**Make you scream.**_  
_**Make you scream.**_

_**Take me back,**_  
_**Take me back,**_  
_**One more time around the track.**_  
_**One more time,**_  
_**Just one more time.**_  
_**Make me ride with you tonight.**_  
_**Here we go,**_  
_**Round and round,**_  
_**Twist and turning,**_  
_**Heading out.**_  
_**One more time**_  
_**Around the track.**_  
_**Tell me that you know I…**_  
_**Tell me that you know I…**_  
_**(You got what I need)**_

_**It's special.**_  
_**It's true love.**_  
_**It's Rollacosta.**_

_**One more time.**_  
_**One more time.**_

_**It's special.**_  
_**Take me to the edge just one more time.**_  
_**Oh, come like that today.**_  
_**It's special.**_  
_**Take me all around, well, if you dare,**_  
_**Now I'm going in…**_

_**Rollacosta, make you scream.**_  
_**Make you scream.**_  
_**Make you scream bad.**_

_**Rollacosta, **_  
_**Throw your hands up,**_  
_**Take me to the top.**_  
_**Rollacosta,**_  
_**Upside down,**_  
_**I never wanna stop.**_  
_**Rollacosta,**_  
_**Take me to the limit,**_  
_**To the top,**_  
_**Rollacosta…**_  
_**Make you scream.**_  
_**Make you scream.**_  
_**Make you scream.**_

_**Take me back,**_  
_**Take me back,**_  
_**One more time around the track.**_  
_**One more time,**_  
_**Just one more time.**_  
_**Make me ride with you tonight.**_  
_**Here we go,**_  
_**Round and round,**_  
_**Twist and turning,**_  
_**Heading out.**_  
_**One more time**_  
_**Around the track.**_  
_**Tell me that you know I…**_  
_**Tell me that you know I need…**_

_**It's special.**_  
_**It's true love.**_  
_**It's Rollacosta.**_  
_**It's…**_

_**Rollacosta, make you scream.**_  
_**I'm gonna make you scream.**_


	19. Chapter 4C: Harry & Tracey

**__****CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **_User_**__**** "heeroxduo1to2" **_recommended the song, **"Smile" by Uncle Kracker **for Harry & Tracey this go around. It perfectly reflects Harry's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to heeroxduo1to2 - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Need to add a caveat here about the fan artwork for the contest here:** it has to be your original work that you do for this fanfic, specifically. In otherwords, you can't point to someone else's work for your contest entry. You can photo manipulate images of live people on the internet to make them look like the couples in this story, or you can draw pictures of the couples for this story, but it has to be your own work and specifically made for this story. Hope that makes things clearer. Sorry if I confused anyone.

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR SONG LISTS OR ORIGINAL ARTWORK! ****I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

_**P.S. Unseenlibrarian** helped me to wow-up the relationship between Harry & Tracey here with some excellent suggestions (again). If not for that, this chappy would have fizzled. Give her a big thanks for her efforts in your reviews, okay?_

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter? **

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR (#3): Harry & Tracey**

As soon as they'd hopped up from the sofas and met again, Harry had taken a hold of Tracey's hand and dragged her back into their private room. Shutting the door quickly, he spun on her, amped to touch her again. "Say it's okay to hug and kiss you again," he begged, his heart leaping madly in his chest.

Tracey's beautiful smile lit up her face. "It's okay to hug and kiss me again," she parroted him, stepping closer to him. "Now you say the same," she bid.

Harry nodded excitedly. "Heck, yes! Hug and kiss me!"

His girl's arms wrapped about his waist and their bodies collided as she melted into him. Dropping his card to the floor and thrusting his hands into her hair, Harry bent his head to capture her affection again. There was no gentleness this time; he started out strong with intention. His tongue licked over hers, stroking at her lips boldly, possessively. Tracey gasped, tipped herself closer, encouraging his ravaging hunger for her taste. As her confidence in their melding grew, her mouth fought for more of his kiss, and Harry felt his witch's carefully contained wildness spilling out in the grip of her hands through his hair and the passion of her response. The little whimpers escaping her throat between the pulling of their lips and the writhing of her lithe body against his drove him mad, made his higher brain fuzz out as instinct took over. She was so soft, pliable, and as eager as he…

As they came up for air finally, Harry's heart was beating madly in his chest. He pressed his cheek to Tracey's and rubbed gently against her. "I really like doing this with you," he confessed. "I don't even know you all that well, but I feel like…" He nuzzled into her throat. "This is a good thing we have going here. Do you feel the same?"

"Yes," her voice whispered softly in his ear as she turned her head slightly and nestled closer. Her fingers caressed his back gently over his shirt, causing tingles to run up and down his spine. "Harry, I… really like you a lot."

His stomach turning somersaults in giddiness, Harry swallowed heavily against the emotion that crept up his throat. All his young life, he'd been alone. Yes, he had excellent, loyal, companionable friends and a godfather who doted on him, and they had all filled the role of his lost family, but he still felt the distinct lack of a deeper, more elusive and meaningful connection. From the moment he'd first known the truth about his parents' relationship, his greatest wish had been for his heart to be filled up with the kind of love James and Lily Potter had had for each other. To be cared about for the man he had grown into, to prove that he was worthy of such a gift, to give of himself fully and without reservation to someone who could accept him with equal feeling – that was his most profound desire. Had he found it at last in this witch? Was this where his heart could truly lie?

There was only one way to find out; he would play this game through with courage and honesty, and allow himself to hope.

"Are you thirsty or hungry?" he asked, pulling back slightly, keeping his arms about her, still needing that important contact.

Tracey shook her head. "I'm okay for now. Thank you." Shyly, she brought her arms around and up between them to play with the collar and top buttons of his shirt. "Perhaps, though, we should begin? I don't want us to lose the game because we forgot to perform our cards." Her teasing smile was adorable, and lit up her hazel eyes with glimmers of mischief.

Harry cleared his throat, having read his card earlier and feeling a tad nervous about her reaction. "My card this turn is a bit, um… well… you're going to laugh at me, I believe," he admitted, reciting from memory his action this round:

_**FORFEIT: You must sing a romantic song to your partner.**_

Tracey gave a tinkling, sweet laugh. "That sounds like fun, actually!"

Feeling the heat crawl up his cheeks, Harry shook his head. "Good thing we all invested in earmuffs for Sprout's class, because you're going to need them this round. I sound like a juvenile Mandrake when I sing."

Leaning up on tiptoes, Tracey gave him a small, quick kiss with her eyes locked onto his. "You said your dancing was terrible, too, but I found it to be rather enjoyable."

Ooh, boy. Yep, he was definitely losing the argument between his heart and mind to take things slowly. There was no denying it; a few more innocent remarks and kisses like that and he was going to be head over heels in love.

"So, um, what about your card?" he asked, trying to keep the conversation rolling.

Now it was his partner's turn to blush, but the smile she tried to hide by pursing her lips made things in his belly crawl about with eagerness. Apparently, her card was either going to be completely silly like his or…

Pulling herself from his arms and stooping to pick up the card she, too, had let fall to the floor when they'd embraced, she read it to him:

_**FORFEIT: Your partner gets to lick any part on your body of their choice. You cannot touch them.**_

His tongue on her body… anywhere he wanted?

Harry's 'friend' in his pants jerked awake.

Bloody hell, he really should have wanked before coming to the game, like Ron had suggested. It had been weeks since he'd been with a woman, and now he was here with this irresistible, very attractive witch (who smelled entirely too tempting, and smiled alluringly with her whole being, and made him feel _alive_), and the first blatantly sexual act between them was going to probably make him come in his pants.

Darn it, he had better control than this!

Maybe.

He hoped anyway.

Tracey stepped away from him and drifted towards the couch. Harry suddenly felt worried by her reaction. He hurried to her side, took a seat next to her on the sofa and took her hand in his. "We don't have to do this if you don't want," he offered, his heart slamming under his ribs in anxiety. "We can trade cards, or… I'll forfeit. I don't want to push you into something you're not comfortable with."

His partner looked up at him with wide, surprised eyes. "What makes you think I don't want your mouth on me?"

Harry's jaw dropped open. Holy lords above, did she really just _say_ that?

Realizing how bawdy she'd just sounded, Tracey tried to backtrack. "I… I mean… I like your tongue. It's a nice tongue," she stammered, her face positively radiating crimson.

He couldn't help it – Harry started laughing. "Well, I'm glad we've established that," he finally managed. "So, it's okay for me to perform my card on you then?"

Tracey nodded. "I'd like that… For you to lick me…" As if realizing after the fact how sexual that sounded, she slapped her knee with her free hand. "Oh, foot! You know what I mean!" She shut her eyes and sighed deeply, shaking her head in frustration. "Why are you the only person on the planet I find myself tongue-tied around?"

Tenderness welled in Harry's heart, even as a wide grin overtook his face. Cupping her jaw, he turned her towards him and her eyelids fluttered open to zero in on his again. "Tell you what, I'll put my mouth on you only where you want. You tell me, okay?"

Her hand in his, still resting on her lap, trembled slightly, but she nodded. "Okay. But… can you go first? I think… I'm a little too nervous right this second."

Leaning forward, Harry placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "All right." He sat back and let her hand go, tugging at the collar of his shirt, uneasy with the idea of belting out a song for her. Recalling a trip he'd taken last summer into Muggle Soho for a night of wacky fun with Fred, George, Charlie, Ron and Hermione, an idea suddenly struck him. "Hey, do you know what Karaoke is?"

Tracey shook her head. "A Muggle invention, I'm guessing?"

He nodded. "It's interactive music that you can sing a song to. The words appear on a television screen – remember what that is from Muggle Studies?"

Tracey lit up. "Yes, I'm half-blood, remember? My mother was Muggle-born. We had an old black and white telly in my house when I was a child, but it kept breaking because of the magical interference from mum's spells." She frowned suddenly. "How are you going to make it work here?"

Harry, who had the idea already forming in his head as to how to make it work, waggled his eyebrows at her. "Watch the wizard work his magic," he mysteriously joked, then concentrated on what he wanted to appear on the far wall. A giant movie picture screen unfolded, the canvas flopping to the ground. With another thought, he had the couch rotating to face the screen. Tracey laughed in surprise and lifted her legs as the sofa righted itself. Next, he conjured a karaoke projector, commanding that the item be able to work magically (hey, if the fireplace could do it, why not this? Maybe he'd even just invented something new!). He summoned a microphone and surround-sound speakers to sit all about the room to work with the projector. Then, he considered the musical selection.

Hmmm… something fun, but romantic… Ah, a little Harry Connick Jr. would do just fine here! "Recipe for Love" was one of his favorites. "Don't laugh," he teasingly warned his date as the sound of a jazz piano began, followed by a full big band orchestra. On the screen before them in black letters against a light blue backdrop, a series of words appeared. As the words changed color to cue him, Harry began singing.

_**A little bit of me and a whole lot of you.  
Add a dash of starlight and a dozen roses, too.  
Then let it rise for a hundred years or two,  
And that's the recipe for making love.**_

_**It doesn't need sugar 'cause it's already sweet.**_  
_**It doesn't need an oven 'cause it's got a lot of heat.**_  
_**Just add a dash of kisses to make it all complete,**_  
_**And that's the recipe for making love.**_

_**And if you've made it right you'll know it…**_  
_**It's not like anything you've made before.**_  
_**And if you've made it wrong you'll know it…**_  
_**'Cause it won't keep you coming back for more.**_

_**I didn't get it from my grandma's book upon the shelf.**_  
_**I didn't get it from a magical and culinary elf.**_  
_**No, a little birdie told me you can't make it by yourself.**_  
_**And that's the recipe for making love.**_

During the interlude, Tracey nudged him with her shoulder. "Liar! You sing really well!" Harry cleared his throat, feeling the stifling heat rise up his cheeks again, and finished up the song.

_**It's not like anything you've made before…**_

_**No, 'cause it won't keep you coming back for more…**_

**_No, I didn't get it from my grandma's book upon the shelf._**  
**_Didn't get it from a magical and culinary elf._**  
**_No, a little birdie told me that you can't make it by yourself._**  
**_And that's the recipe..._**

_**Ooh, that's the recipe…**_

_**And that's the recipe for making love!**_

Tracey clapped enthusiastically at the end and threw her arms about his neck, kissing him soundly on the lips. "That was marvelous!"

Harry's face heated up; even his ears felt hot. "Uh, thanks." To cover his momentary ineptitude, he leaned forward and kissed Tracey back. "Want to give it a try?" he offered her the mic.

Tracey bit her lip. "I… don't know too many Muggle songs."

Harry shrugged. "Just pick something you do know and might be able to sing without sounding like a croaking toad, and then laugh about it afterwards." He winked at her and gave her a cheesy grin. "That's the secret to getting through karaoke."

Tracey hesitantly took the microphone. "I just sing into this?" she asked, bringing it to her lips and jerking back as her voice echoed loudly throughout the room. "Oh, well, this seems easy. Okay, a song… Oh! I know!" She gave him a sly look from the corner of her eye, her lids lowering to half-mast and a wicked smile illuminating her features, making Harry's penis stand up and take serious notice again. "So, do I just tell the machine to play the song I want and ask for the lyrics to appear on the screen then?"

He swallowed and nodded, wondering what she was up to. His partner looked, in that moment, like the cat that had swallowed the proverbial canary.

"All right then, you asked for it…" she warned.

A jazz trumpet began, and when the words immediately appeared on the screen before them, Harry nearly fell over in astonishment, a hearty laugh bubbling forth from his lips even as Tracey began singing:

_**I am here to state…  
I'm here to relate…  
To explain…  
and make it plain that: **_

_**I'm just wild about Harry,  
and Harry's wild about me!  
The heavenly blisses of his kisses  
fill me with ecstasy.**_

_**He's sweet like chocolate candy,  
and just like honey from a bee!  
Oh, I'm just wild about Harry,  
and he's just wild about me!**_

_**Oh, I'm just wild about Harry,  
and he's just wild about…  
Cannot do without…  
He's just wild about me!**__**  
**_

Tracey joined in the laughter as soon as the last note hit, her face practically glowing from embarrassment.

Harry applauded, shaking his head and continuing to chuckle. "Brava! You sounded just like Judy Garland, too!" He leaned over and kissed her smiling cheek.

"Can we do it again?" she asked, her eyes positively radiant.

How could Harry possibly say 'no' to that? He nodded. "Want to go or shall I?"

Tracey handed the mic back. "Your turn. Sing something fun to me, ___señor_."

Considering his next song already, he took the proffered device and mock-bowed. "As you command, mistress mine." He sang "I Saw Her Standing There" by The Beatles to her next, turning it into something totally silly by intentionally singing it campy. To his delight, Tracey knew this song, and she even half-danced in her seat, bopping back and forth and snapping and clapping in time to the beat.

On her turn, she sang Lesley Gore's version of "Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows" to him. She was such an amazingly good singer, even better than the original artist in his opinion, her melodic voice turning even a fast-paced, fun song into something adorably sultry. It made him want to throw her into the couch and snog her senseless.

They ended the set with a slow, romantic tune of Harry's choosing - one of his favorite songs from the previous decade: "I Want To Know What Love Is" by Foreigner. It seemed like that song perfectly reflected his feelings for her in that moment, and he wanted to share this with her, knowing she probably hadn't ever heard this song before, since her knowledge of Muggle music seemed to end with the 1960's. Grabbing her hand, he stood and pulled her up into his embrace.

Harry slow-danced with her again, softly singing along with the original vocalist, Lou Gramm, in her ear as he held her close.

_**I gotta take a little time…  
A little time to think things over.  
I better read between the lines,  
In case I need it when I'm older.**_

_**Now this mountain I must climb,**_  
_**Feels like the world upon my shoulders.**_  
_**And through the clouds I see love shine…**_  
_**It keeps me warm as life grows colder.**_

_**In my life there's been heartache and pain,**_  
_**I don't know if I can face it again...**_  
_**Can't stop now - I've traveled so far**_  
_**To change this lonely life.**_

_**I wanna know what love is,**_  
_**I want you to show me.**_  
_**I wanna feel what love is,**_  
_**I know you can show me.**_

Pressing kisses against her ear, moving down her throat, Harry decided that now would be the perfect time to perform her card. Suckling a little hard against her pulse, he began his seduction of her senses, whispering the words to the song at each parting of his lips from her skin.

_**I'm gonna take a little time,  
A little time to look around me.  
I've got nowhere left to hide…  
It looks like love has finally found me.  
**_

Tracey melted into him, turning her neck fully, giving him complete, unfettered access, trusting him to guide her through this moment. Her fingernails scraped through his hair as he nibbled and licked, running his tongue all up and down her throat.

_**In my life there's been heartache and pain,  
I don't know if I can face it again…  
I can't stop now - I've traveled so far  
To change this lonely life.  
**_

Gripping her hips tightly, Harry held her still as he let his mouth explore the skin of her neck and the dip of her shoulder thoroughly. "So sweet," he murmured in her ear as he took her lobe between his teeth, nipping it.

_**I wanna know what love is,  
I want you to show me.  
I wanna feel what love is,  
I know you can show me.  
I wanna know what love is,  
I want you to show me.  
And I wanna feel, I want to feel what love is,  
And I know, I know you can show me.  
**_

His witch moaned and gasped, pressing her body into his completely, her left leg running slowly up the outside of his. Smoothing his hand down her hip, around the curve of her bum, down her leg, he gripped her under her knee and pulled the leg up, wrapping it around his thigh, groaning as her sweet spot pressed and rubbed against his throbbing erection.

_**Let's talk about love…  
(I wanna know what love is) The love that you feel inside.  
(I want you to show me) I'm feeling so much love.  
(I wanna feel what love is) No, you just cannot hide.  
(I know you can show me) **_

Harry ravished Tracey's lips, slipping his tongue into the slit of her mouth and teased hers into playing with him again. They lapped at each other, kissed with wet, fierce emotion, equal in their shared ardor and passion.

Merlin Almighty, he wanted this girl!

_**I wanna know what love is, let's talk about love…  
(I want you to show me) I wanna feel it too.  
(I wanna feel what love is) I wanna feel it too.  
And I know, and I know, I know you can show me.  
Show me what is real, **_

_**Yeah, I know.**_

Grabbing his witch's long, soft hair and lightly tugging, he tilted her neck all the way back, and traced the curve of her chin with the tip of his tongue, over her bared throat, down to the heart-shaped center of her collarbone, continuing further until his lips and tongue fell into the valley of her breasts. She cried out in a husky moan as his mouth circled her left nipple through her dress and bra.

_**(I wanna know what love is) Hey I wanna know what love is.  
(I want you to show me) I wanna know, I wanna know, want to know…  
(I wanna feel what love is) Hey, I wanna feel love.  
I know you can show me.**_

It occurred to him that things were moving really fast as the last notes of the song faded out. He pulled back slightly, ran his mouth back up her throat to her ear. "Is this okay?" he murmured, not wanting to scare her off with his need to have her, but desperate for just a little more. She'd become his tempting Eve, with her perfectly shaped body, and her alluring, sincere eyes, and those painted lips of hers that tasted like sweet, summer melon. "Can I touch you like this with my hands and my mouth?" He felt himself drowning in her scent, seduced by her heat. Nuzzling against her hairline, he pressed wet lips to the shell of her ear. "Will you let me lick your nipples, Tracey? Let me taste you?"

Against his cheek, he felt Tracey's heart pounding as fiercely as his own, the erratic beat exciting the blood in his veins to a fierce tempo. She nodded to his request. "Yes," she sighed, her fingernails pressing into his shoulders. "Put your mouth on me anywhere you want, Harry."

His lower abdomen clenched tight at her innocently daring, _carte blanche_ offer, and Harry had to remind himself to take it slow; not to rush headlong into the sensations that recklessly pounded through his blood.

With slightly trembling fingers, he hooked his fingers under one shoulder strap of her dress and slid it down her arm, along with her bra, dropping it as far as it could go. Gliding across the fabric, he found and cupped her breast, pushing up gently, his mouth latching back onto the pulse of her neck and biting softly at the same time. Tracey moaned again in that same low, longing tone, and Harry felt her rising desire in her hitching breath, heard her softly elicited, mewling demands for more of the bliss he was providing, and a wave of scorching heat passed through him, slamming into his gut. Her need drove him onward, overrode his control measures. Sliding the material of her dress down in the front, pulling the cup of her bra with it, he traveled back downward, letting his tongue trace circles over the exposed flesh as it was revealed. When one perfectly pink, erect nipple finally appeared, Harry groaned, and dipped his head immediately, taking it between his lips. It was absolute heaven, suckling on her pert, responsive breast, tasting the salty-sweetness of her skin.

"Oh, Harry!" Tracey gasped in bliss and arched her back even further to give him as much of herself as possible. "_Harry!_"

Hearing his voice said in _that_ tone made Harry harder than he could ever remember being. If things kept going as they were… He lathed her nipple with wet, insistent strokes of his tongue, pulling it back between his lips to nurse hard, dragging her further and further into the storm along with him.

He shifted his arms, tugged the other side of her dress and bra down, bared that breast as well, and turned his head to cherish it with similar heat. She had the prettiest nipples – of medium size, with beige areolas the size of galleons, dusky-colored at the tips, and begging for his attention. He gave her what she wanted with ardor, both ravishing and worshipping at the same time.

Nibbling his way back up the other side of her throat, lapping over every place his teeth paused to bite, he worked his way to her ear. "Do you want me to stop?" He swallowed, breathing hard, trying to regain control and to do the right thing, even as her face turned into his and recaptured his lips while one of her hands sought his at her waist, smoothing them together up over her torso until the roundness of her breast was cupped in his palm.

Tracey shook her head, her long, satiny hair brushing against his cheek. "No," she whispered somewhat firmly, and that was his undoing.

With a deep moan conveying his burning need, he ran his thumb over her wet nipple, rubbing back and forth, driving them both to new levels of insanity. "Then we won't," he told her, feeling the darker, dominant side of his masculine nature switch on. "We won't until you _beg_."

Turning them about, dropping her leg from around him, he tumbled them onto the couch, lay her back against the cushions, and bent his head to take an exposed, straining peak once more into his mouth. Tracey's supple body writhed against his to the chorus of her approval as he sucked and nipped her tit. "They're beautiful," he murmured in between licks. "The prettiest breasts I've ever seen and tasted. Pretty like you…" He moved to the other side, lapping, teasing her nip to stand to full attention. "You're perfect, Tracey. In every way, so perfect."

Raising his head, he reached for her lips again, continuing to tell her the thoughts in his heart amid kisses and stolen breaths. "I've waited for someone like you. Just like the song said - waited _so long_. Will you be my girlfriend? I want you to be mine. Not just for the game, but after. I want you after, too. Three dates is enough time to know that, right?"

Tracey nodded, gasping as his fingers pinched her nipples, rolled them. "Yes! Oh, Harry, _yes!_"

Harry's mind was fuzzy with compelling lust, and he moved on instinct now, losing himself in the touch, taste, feel and scent of his witch. Davis was gorgeous, and willing, and the most powerful aphrodisiac in the world right then to his starved senses.

One of his hands slid down her waist to begin bunching up the hem of her dress. When he could reach easily under the fabric, he caressed her over her panties – which were damp with desire. When she undulated her hips into the heel of his hand, pressing what he knew to be her clit against him, he felt his heart leap straight into his throat. He nearly lost what remained of his sanity, then.

Slipping his hand over the top band of her knickers, he quickly shoved his fingers under and touched her soft, wet curls for the first time. Tracey gasped in surprise, then moaned as he began running his tips through the hair, tickling, stroking, familiarizing his tactile senses with her texture, scenting her musky arousal in the air between them. His penis was so hard he ached clear to his very center; he longed to rip those panties off and thrust into her, to bury his steely length all the way up into her. Instead, he satisfied himself with peeking between her slit with his middle finger and lightly caressing her clit.

"_Oh, gods!_" Tracey panted the tormented plea….

…and that's what jolted Harry out of the moment, made him realize what he was doing. Godric's bones, he had his hand down her pants! Pulling away, he hurriedly lowered her dress again, trying to give her a modicum of respect. "I'm sorry… I just… lost control." He looked into those wide, shocked, multi-colored eyes of hers and felt remorse so great that his heart wanted to cower. "I didn't mean to push things so far this quickly. I'm _so_ sorry, Tracey."

Tracey's fingers on his lips shut him up immediately, and it was then that he recognized that she didn't seem to be in the least upset by what had transpired. In fact, she looked like being snogged properly was just what she'd always wanted; her swollen lips were parted by excited breath, her gaze shimmering with lust, a light sheen of perspiration on her forehead and cheeks indicated desire… "Harry, I liked all of it. Please don't apologize," she shyly whispered, pulling his hand up slowly and letting it rest on the bared flesh of her breast once more. "Here, touch me again."

Licking his lips, Harry did as she bade, watching her face the whole time. She closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure, smiling, and the reaction was so honest and sincere, that it made him wonder again how it was she could be in this game. She seemed so innocent. But he knew she couldn't be; Malfoy made it clear that everyone playing had to be sexually aware.

"Kiss me again, Harry," she enticed, glancing at him through a half-lidded stare that called him to obey.

Melding their mouths together in a long, sensual kiss, bracing himself on his elbows and being careful not to press his erection too hard between her legs, Harry let his fingers gently, leisurely caress her nipples, this time in a more exploratory manner than a blatantly sexual one. In this way, he learned the feel of her breasts; noted that her right was a bit heavier than her left, that the left side was more sensitive to pinching, and that Tracey loved it when he moved them together in a counter-clockwise circular motion. He also learned that she loved her lower lip to be lightly bitten and that she enjoyed sucking on his tongue softly, while they mimicked the sex act with their mouths.

The chimes rang out eventually, signaling an end to this round's discoveries, much to their mutual disappointment. With deep sighs of regret, but also contentment, the two of them sat up together. With tenderness and care, Harry helped her to replace her clothes, giving her right nipple a naughty, final lick and kiss before covering it with her bra. Tracey's light whimper in his ear just then almost made him reconsider re-dressing her, and for half a second, he had the wickedest thought of simply undressing her again and this time, letting the two of them completely forget the game in favor of hours-worth of love-making.

Reality crashed in, however, when Tracey giggled. "I would never have pegged you for liking The Beatles."

This was the last thing he'd expected her to say, but strangely, it was the best thing she could have to pull him out of his wayward thoughts. Harry chuckled and affected a thick Liverpool accent. "I'm British. Of course I like The Beatles! Doesn't everybody?" He offered her a hand up, righted her clothes one final time, as well as his own, then smoothed down her hair.

As they headed for the exit, Tracey chuckled. "I'm quite sure Malfoy doesn't."

Harry rolled his eyes as he reached for the handle, cracking the door. "Yeah, well, let me amend my earlier statement: only utter prats don't like The Beatles." A thought occurred and he shut the door again. Turning to her, he took her back into his arms and kissed her again, tasting her slowly. "I meant what I said earlier – about you being my girl. I want that very much, but you don't have to answer yet. Think about it this next question round, and then let me know the next time we're in here. Okay?"

Tracey looked at him with some amusement, her teasing smile telling him he was being silly to make her wait, as it was clear she intended upon answering in the positive to his suit, but she conceded easily enough. "Okay."

He kissed the tip of her nose, her cheek and her lips again. "Thanks for a fantastic third date, by the way. Can't say I've ever had anything quite like it. Want to do it again really soon?"

Tracey gave him a mysteriously sinful smile. "Hmmm… I'm not sure. You'll have to convince me by kissing me some more."

He chuckled, feigning resignation. "Oh, well… if I _must_." Opening the door all the way, he lifted her off the floor bridal style with relative ease (she didn't really weigh all that much, honestly), and snogged her enthusiastically all the way back to the couches, taking his sweet time getting there.

As he put his stunningly gorgeous partner down a step away from the coffee table, his smile was brilliant. "Right. So, see you for our fourth date in a few minutes then."

Davis nodded, grinning mischievously. "Mmm… I expect flowers next time, Mr. Potter."

He chuckled and kissed her one more time, rubbing his cheek against hers lovingly. "Yes, mistress mine. Flowers you want, flowers you shall receive."

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Musical Selection this Chapter: "Smile" by Uncle Kracker. Lyrics are as follows…**

_**You're better then the best.  
I'm lucky just to linger in your life.  
Cooler then the flip side of my pillow, that's right.  
Completely unaware…  
Nothing can compare to where you send me;  
Lets me know that it's okay – yeah, it's okay.  
And the moments when my good times start to fade…**_

_**You make me smile like the sun,**_  
_**Fall out of bed,**_  
_**Sing like a bird,**_  
_**Dizzy in my head,**_  
_**Spin like a record,**_  
_**Crazy on a Sunday night.**_  
_**You make me dance like a fool,**_  
_**Forget how to breathe,**_  
_**Shine like gold,**_  
_**Buzz like a bee,**_  
_**Just the thought of you can drive me wild.**_  
_**Oh, you make me smile.**_

_**Even when you're gone,**_  
_**Somehow you come along**_  
_**Just like a flower poking through the sidewalk crack,**_

_**And just like that,  
You steal away the rain. **_

_**And just like that…**_

_**You make me smile like the sun,**_  
_**Fall out of bed,**_  
_**Sing like a bird,**_  
_**Dizzy in my head,**_  
_**Spin like a record,**_  
_**Crazy on a Sunday night.**_  
_**You make me dance like a fool,**_  
_**Forget how to breathe,**_  
_**Shine like gold,**_  
_**Buzz like a bee,**_  
_**And just the thought of you can drive me wild.**_  
_**Oh, you make me smile.**_

_**Don't know how I lived without you,**_  
_**'Cause every time that I get around you,**_  
_**I see the best of me inside your eyes.**_  
_**You make me smile.**_

_**You make me dance like a fool,  
Forget how to breathe,  
Shine like gold,  
Buzz like a bee,  
Just the thought of you can drive me wild!**_

_**You make me smile like the sun,**_  
_**Fall out of bed,**_  
_**Sing like a bird,**_  
_**Dizzy in my head,**_  
_**Spin like a record,**_  
_**Crazy on a Sunday night.**_  
_**You make me dance like a fool,**_  
_**Forget how to breathe,**_  
_**Shine like gold,**_  
_**Buzz like a bee,**_  
_**Just the thought of you can drive me wild.**_  
_**Oh, you make me smile.**_  
_**Oh, you make me smile.**_

_**Oh, you make me smile!**_


	20. Chapter 4D: Draco & Hermione

**_CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: _**_User_**_ "sass1234" _**_recommended the song, **"Say It" by Ne-Yo **for Draco & Hermione this go around. It perfectly reflects Draco's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to sass1234 - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! ****I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

_**P.S. Unseenlibrarian** is a life-saver! She constantly catches my mistakes! THANK YOU FOR THE BETA AGAIN!_

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter?**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR (#4): Draco & Hermione**

Draco's heart was pounding with anticipation by the time his partner walked past him. The clack of her heels on the stone floor was muted by the thick Aubusson carpet he'd summoned the moment he'd stepped into the room and changed the decor. Romantic patterns in a Greek style were highlighted in beige and creams against an olive green backdrop, and were in stark contrast to the large, black leather couch which sat upon the carpet as the lone piece of furniture in the room. A magically lit hearth set against the back wall provided the only light in the room, creating a sensual ambiance. Hermione seemed oblivious to the changes, however, as her eyes were locked onto his as they slid past each other. He made sure to give her an extra heated look and a tiny smirk just to perturb her further.

It worked, earning him a twitched eyebrow and a steely glare. He snickered in satisfaction as he shut the door behind her. He trailed her across the floor, but instead of standing before the fire, he took a seat on the couch, the soft, supple leather crinkling and molding around him. From this angle, he could watch her profile as she stood before the magical flames, see how distracted and disturbed she was by the far-away look in her bronzed eyes as she absently raised her drink to her mouth and took a sip, by the small crease above her brow and by the way she bit her coral-coloured bottom lip as she pulled her glass away. Even worried, she was magnificent.

Distracting himself from lusty thoughts, he held his card up and read it aloud, deciding to take the initiative:

_**DEED: Set your wand to vibrate and use it on your partner any way you want.**_

Granger froze with her glass of water half-way to her mouth, her eyes widening perceptively. He saw the fear pass like a shadow over her face and felt a moment of disheartenment. Sure, they'd fallen back on slinging insults in the common area outside, but he'd thought they'd made real progress during the last action round. Hadn't they mentally 'clicked' over the meal? He knew he hadn't imagined the mirroring lust in her eyes as he'd leaned over to tease her, either.

"What does your card say?" he asked in an even, soft voice, trying to move past the awkward moment, hoping to get her to open up a bit, relax a little more.

Her lids lowered as she slowly raised her card to her eyes and she read it for him:

_**DEED: Your partner must give you a sensual foot and leg massage with a nice scented oil of your choice.**_

Ah, perfect. This gave them the ideal beginning, allowing them an opportunity to ease into things. "You can go first," he graciously offered, setting his card aside along with his wand (which he'd scooped up off the table before leaving the main room earlier), and got to his feet. "I don't mind."

Dark, measuring orbs shot to his, and he saw clear mistrust reflected there. Draco sighed in exasperation and held out his hand. "Come, Granger, we don't have all night. You wouldn't forfeit over something so simple as a foot rub, would you?" He willed a small end table into existence at the end of the couch, directing it to contain two soft hand towels. He toed off his shoes and knelt down by the table, looking at her over his shoulder. "Well?"

Looking between him, the table and the sofa, Granger made her decision to stay and play this round out, much to his great relief. Crossing to the couch, she took a seat, placing her half-full water glass on the table. "You wanted to be submissive," she growled at him. "Here's your chance to prove it, Malfoy."

He smirked lazily. "Oh, I intend to." Reaching for her right foot, he grabbed it up and began taking off her golden sandal before she had time to react. When her foot twitched, as if she would draw it away, he held on tighter and pinched her big toe lightly. "Stop. I'm not lifting your dress, just taking off your shoes. Geez, Granger, you're so jumpy."

A sigh of frustration escaped her lips. "Do you honestly blame me? Prior to today, you've practically considered me less than the stuff on the bottom of those shoes."

"I have not," he countered, smoothly extricating her foot from her sandal and placing it on the floor next to him. He then started on her left foot. "Quit exaggerating."

"You have so!" she argued, her voice rising in pitch. "Why else would you call me a 'Mudblood'?"

As he gently removed her heel and toes from her shoe and put it next to its mate, he looked up at her evenly. "When's the last time I even uttered that word?"

Granger opened her mouth, seemed to consider it, and shut her lips again, looking away in confusion. "I… can't recall."

Kneeling upright, Draco placed his hands on either side of her legs on the couch and stuck his face next to hers on purpose, looking her right in the eye. "Fourth Year, just before the Yule Ball. Now, ask me why that specific event."

She blinked, shocked to find them so close together, and leaned all the way back into the couch to put some distance between them. "Why?"

Draco's heart was literally hammering now under his ribs. He was going to reveal a little bit more of himself to her, and he feared the fallout would most likely be that she'd withdraw as soon as she heard the truth, but this was an important barrier of misconception between them that needed to be smashed down in order for them to move forward. He'd take the hit to his pride if it meant making progress. "Because you took my breath away that night, in that pretty, little periwinkle dress you were wearing." He smirked a little bitterly at her astonished look. "Oh, yes, I know the colour choice was purposeful, and I even know what it meant - unlike your oaf of a date that night."

The acidic ire and jealousy that shot to the surface as he thought of Krum touching her came and went quickly, replaced by a strange melancholy.

"I couldn't take my eyes off of you the whole evening. Every time I tried to distance myself, there you were in the corner of my vision, smiling and laughing - dancing freely, like nothing in the world could hurt you. You were _fearless_ in the face of all that jealousy aimed at you by the rest of us in that room, Granger. And for the first time in the three and a half years I'd known you, you were _truly_ uninhibited. It was… beautiful."

Unwittingly, his eyes were drawn to those painted lips of hers, and he found himself wondering for the hundredth time what they tasted like.

"That's when everything changed. That's when I started doubting the beliefs my father had instilled in me. Because everything I was taught told me that a Mudblood shouldn't be so… exquisitely transcendent." He forced himself to look back up into her eyes. "I haven't said that word since, until this exact conversation."

Granger stared at him like he was half-mad - a wild animal gone tame, as if she wasn't quite sure she could trust it enough not to bite her hand off yet. Feeling a little vulnerable, Draco tore himself away, sitting back on his haunches again, and reached for a towel, busying his hands and mind. He placed it under her feet, and the second one across his lap. "So, do you have a preferred scent or shall I choose one?"

"What?" Hermione asked, clearly thrown by the sudden change in subject. "Scent? Oh…" She seemed to recover her composure rather quickly. "Um, no. You choose."

He'd totally thrown her, knew he'd really pushed her comfort levels this time. Hell, he'd shattered his own, so why the fuck not put them on equal footing? With a deep sigh, he thought up an appropriate scent for the massage, settling on a warm blend of black cherries, crème anglaise and sandalwood. A bottle popped into existence on the table next to him, and he swept it up, opened it, inhaled to assure himself of the selection (yes, it would be perfect), and then set about pouring it into his hands. "You'll have to lift the dress to your knees, both front and backside," he instructed. "I don't want to stain it with the oil."

Granger complied, and when her bared calves and ankles came into view, he forced himself to concentrate on putting the bottle back on the table and not spilling the oil warming up in the cup of his palm. He'd only ever seen her feet and legs bared that one time during the Yule Ball; every other time, they were covered, either by knee-high socks or slacks or those Muggle jeans she sometimes wore. The sight of those petite ankles, the slim width of her feet and their pretty arches, along with those adorably painted toenails made him uncomfortably aware of his growing erection.

Shit, he'd never been a 'foot man' before, but he had the feeling that after this massage, he was going to be a convert to the cause.

Taking up her left side first, he began by smoothing the slippery liquid over the golden skin on the top. Once the foot was good and coated, he pressed his thumbs into the bottom of her arch and gently, but with firm pressure, worked his way upwards. His partner moaned. Draco tried to ignore how that made his cock jump to attention, focusing on the task – the goal of relaxing her - instead. Otherwise, the second he touched her with his wand, she was either going to freak or beat his arse. He repeated the motion with his thumbs three times, working out the immediate kinks before concentrating on kneading her heel next.

"You've done this often," she stated with certainty.

Draco shrugged. "I've done it on occasion."

"Semantics," she challenged.

"What do you really want to know?" he tested her, reading the implied statement behind her initial one. "Are you asking if I give women foot massages as part of my normal sexual repertoire?"

She was quiet a moment as his thumbs ran circles up the edge of her foot. "Well, do you?"

Draco smirked. "No. Only the special ones get this kind of treatment."

"And the others?" she snapped with accusation.

His grin widened as he looked up at her, catching her eye as his fingers teased the sensitive skin between her toes, knowing the reaction that would cause. "Hard, fast fucking in whatever position is most convenient for the time allotted or the space permitted."

She licked her lips and bravely held his stare. "You have a lot of one-offs then?"

He shrugged again, letting his thumbs rub the pad of her big toe in circles. "You're looking for numbers," he stated. "All right, I'll tell if you do."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, considering the deal. "You go first."

Draco chuckled. "Fine, I'm not ashamed of my sex life, Granger. I've slept with nine women."

There was a short pause as she seemed to digest that information. "Any men?"

The question made him snicker as he shook his head. "No, sorry." He tossed her a cheeky grin. "You're not into that sort of thing, are you? 'Cause if we ever do a _ménage a trois_, beautiful, it has to be you and another female. I don't do apes."

She chuckled. "No, I'm straight and I prefer my men to be as well."

"How many men are we talking about here?" he asked, continuing to play with her toes, not moving the massage further yet, liking where this discussion was going and stalling to stretch his time out.

Granger paused, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I've slept with two men."

Draco felt his stomach tighten. Two? He'd only known about one. Who was the other bloke? "The Weasel everyone knows about. Was Finnigan the other?" His heart burned like fire in his chest at the thought of that cock-sucking Irish touching _his_ girl…

Granger looked at him with sincere concern. "Oh. My. God!" She burst out laughing and pointed one perfectly manicured finger in his face. "You're jealous of Seamus!" Her smile became positively wicked, making his dick harder than granite. "Heard the rumours, have you, about how he's cut?"

_Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck! _

Draco did his best to hide his ire away, playing it off as simple penis envy. "Jealous? Hardly. The guy's some kind of mutant. Seriously, how could any girl get pleasure from being ripped in half?"

Granger actually giggled, and this time without the influence of alcohol. "Welllll…" She exaggerated the pause. Draco pinched her calf, making her squeal and erupt into full-out peals of laughter. "Calm down, Malfoy. No, I never slept with Sea," she reassured him, patting his head with fondness, still smiling.

Despite the tiny annoyance he felt at being patronized, Draco actually felt relief overtake all other emotions at the moment. That tight knot in his chest eased. "So, who's fellow number two, then? Please don't tell me it's Saint Potter?"

She was quiet for a few moments, and Draco knew that she was debating over telling him more. Technically, she didn't have to divulge personal information to him. She didn't even have to talk to him, in fact, until she picked a card that required such an act.

"Charlie Weasley," she finally confessed. "Last Christmas. It was just once. Rebound sex for both of us."

Draco's jaw hit the floor. "Do my ears deceive me? You had a one-off with your ex-boyfriend's older brother? _You?_ I would never have figured you for that kind of kinky."

His partner looked at him with disgust. "Honestly, it wasn't that life-altering an event. It was nice, but he was still in love with his ex-girlfriend, and there was the issue of Ron hanging between us, even though he and I had been broken up for over four months by then."

"Would you fuck him again if you could?"

The question was out of his mouth before he'd even realized he was going to ask it. Biting back his mounting jealousy again, Draco tried to cover by sounding sensitive, like one of those gossip columnists in _PlayWitch_. It wouldn't do to keep tipping his hand as he had been; he had to get better control of his internal green-eyed monster.

"Now that there's been almost a year of separation, and you and the Weasel are amicable, would you resume a relationship with Charlie if you could?"

Hermione appeared to give the question some serious thought, and that pit in Draco's stomach opened up again, this time threatening to drop him in without hope of rescue. Why could he never keep his mouth shut around this woman? Seriously, she drove him absolutely barmy!

"No, I don't think I could," she admitted, much to Draco's relief. "It was nice but, Charlie was a bit… overwhelming."

Draco massaged her sexy, toned calf with slow, rhythmic kneading, making sure to manipulate each stroke so it felt not just relaxing, but was also blatantly sexual. "Overwhelming in what way? Was it the 'fast and sweaty, up against a wall' kind of exciting, or a 'sweet and slow, and emotionally intense to the point where it left you broken-hearted' flavour of devastation we're talking about here?"

His witch blinked, truly blushing now. "Malfoy, I'm not sure it's such a good idea-"

He narrowed his eyes in defiance. "_Bok, bok, bok, _Granger." She'd opened this can of worms, so she could bloody well finish the discussion, as far as he was concerned. He wasn't sure he could take knowing any of this stuff later, anyway, especially after he'd had her. No, it was better to get it out of the way now, so he could stew properly and then try to put it behind him.

Hermione's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "Oh, you _did not_ just give me the chicken, Malfoy! I'm a Gryffindor, for Godric's sake!"

He gave her his best Cheshire Cat grin, intentionally provoking her despite the fact she'd inadvertently incited him. "_BOK. BOK. BOK,_" he tossed back in challenge.

Huffing with righteous indignation, the bookworm crossed her arms under her perky, unbound breasts and glared at him. "It was in a bed, for sixteen hours. He made love to me in every position you can imagine. I _cried_ for more."

Draco felt a scorching flash of fury overtake him, and then he abruptly caught the tell-tale glint in her eye, and the small twitch at the corner of her mouth and he knew he'd been fooled. "You're making that up." He spanked her on the leg. "Tell me true or not at all."

The gig was clearly up, so his sassy partner started laughing and threw her hands up in surrender. "I thought the cards wouldn't let me get away with telling you a bald-face lie, but I had you going there, didn't I?" She looked inordinately smug about pulling one over on him.

A tiny bit of relief washed over him, and he took a deep, cleansing breath, working his way back down her leg, preparing to switch over. It was completely hypocritical of him, but the idea of her making love to any man –much less for more than half a day- made him see red.

"So, not sixteen hours. Still a Weasel though?"

She nodded. "Yes, still Charlie. I was visiting The Burrow – the Weasley family home," she clarified when he didn't recognize the term. "Everyone always goes home for the Christmas break, and Harry and I are always invited, too. I usually come in to stay a few days before the New Year. It was in the middle of the afternoon, and everyone was already outside playing in the snow. I'd gone back inside to get my scarf from the room I'd been assigned, and Charlie followed me up. We'd been flirting for a few days at that point, but I hadn't thought anything about it until just that moment when the door locked. The next thing… Well, you know what happened. It was, as you so crudely put it, fast and sweaty, hanging off the edge of Ginny's bed and with only half our clothes off. I think I still had my Chullo on, in fact, and the whole affair lasted maybe ten minutes - but then that's about average for an illicit rendezvous, I believe."

Draco stopped cold right as he picked up her other foot, shocked by her story. "Let me get this straight: First, you did it in a borrowed bed? Eww. Second, you wore a knitted hat while getting fucked? Mint! Even I haven't done that! Third, that's only the average amount of time you'd spend if you're in it for a quickie, not an 'affair.' And fourth, did you orgasm? I noticed you left that important detail out."

She slapped him on the shoulder as he began massaging her right foot in a mirror pattern to its twin. "I'm not telling you that! That's private!"

His eyebrows rose into his hairline with incredulity. "Are you serious? You could tell me that you were wearing outdoor skull apparel while riding the wild sausage on top of used bed sheets, but not whether you actually liked the experience or not?"

Personally, Draco thought that was his best use of colourful metaphor to describe the act of sex _ever_, but his partner obviously didn't share his humor. Her cheeks flamed brilliant crimson, and her eyes narrowed with distaste.

"You are the crudest prat I have ever had the misfortune of knowing," she accused.

He shrugged, undaunted, his cheek muscles positively smarting from all of the grinning he'd enjoyed this session. He hadn't had this much fun in _years!_

"Admit it: you like me being this way, Granger. It gives you someone to measure your prudishness against."

His partner was silent a moment, then cleared her throat. "Moving on now, have I answered all of your _other_ questions to your satisfaction, Mister Curiosity?"

Well, that was a step-up from 'Mister Smarmy Pants,' at least.

Draco shook his head. "No, but I'll let you off the hook for now. Why don't you tell me what you know about Asian plants?"

He switched subjects on a whim, giving her a break from the sex talk for the moment… all while he rubbed the bottom of her foot in slow circles, being sure to press on the reflexology spot that was said to stimulate the reproductive organs. Well, he _had_ been sorted into Slytherin, after all.

Hermione spent the remaining ten minutes of her massage time cramming as much useless information into his brain as possible. He tried to retain it, but realized that he was much too preoccupied with the question of whether she'd come for Charlie Weasley or not to really care about anything else. Besides, he'd have all of this information available to him later, when he actually cared enough to need it.

As he finished up the massage, he put her foot down, wiped his hands off with the towel in his lap, then rose back up on his knees and loomed over her again. Once more, she tipped back an equidistant amount until the leather cushion of the couch would allow her to move no further.

"You have the prettiest feet and legs, Granger, and I could rub them for hours listening to that amazing mouth of yours spew out facts that most of us would find impossible to recall –except maybe Longbottom, who's as hard-up for plants as you appear to be- but we _are_ on a time limit here, beautiful, and I'd really like to get to my card done now."

Granger's eyes widened with sudden panic. "Right. Your card." She looked down at her hands in her lap. "Could I make a request before you begin, please?"

_What, like not doing it at all,_ he bitterly assumed, grumbling at the thought. "Sure," he drawled instead. "I'll listen to any reasonable supplication."

She swallowed and forced her gaze to meet his. "Can you please not stick your wand inside my body in any capacity? I don't even use… toys… if you understand my meaning. It would be disgusting for me."

Truthfully, that wasn't too unexpected an entreaty from her, and so it didn't disappoint him in the least. He didn't want to scare Granger off, after all. What he ultimately wanted was her willing, squirming, wet and wild, not cursing him out, crying, or quitting the game on him. If this was one of her taboos, he could live with it.

"I can respect that and agree. I promise only sensual touching over the clothes with the wand. We'll make this just another type of massage."

Cinnamon eyes watched him warily as he picked up his wand and set it to very lightly, silently vibrate. Moving to the seat next to her on the couch without further delay, Draco slowly brought the wooden rod to Hermione's cheek. He stroked her flesh with the rounded end, moving in small, tight circles. Instantly, she twitched and began giggling.

"It tickles."

Her shoulders, he noted, relaxed some at that revelation, as if she'd expected it to prickle or hurt, but had instead discovered the sensation to be quite enjoyable. He moved the gently pulsing baton to the bottom of her jaw and lazily traced the line up and down.

His partner giggled again. "This isn't so bad."

When he moved it over to her ear next, tracing the shell around the back, then over the front to her lobe, working his way down the curve of her neck, her smile disappeared, however. Shivering as he slowly worked the trembling tip over her pulse point, she jerked a bit as the wand traced over one bared shoulder and down the inside of her arm to the bend in her elbow. Draco paused there to allow the wand to instigate desire, and then he let it travel down her forearm to the inside of her wrist, where it did the same.

Hermione's breathing quickened as he moved the quivering wood between each of her fingers, lingering with sensual intention against the fleshy, sensitive skin at the joint of each 'vee' and along the curve between index finger and thumb.

"Feel good?" he leaned his mouth towards her cheek, speaking softly.

Reluctantly, Hermione nodded. "It's… acceptable."

"Relax," he whispered as smoothly as the Devil, himself. "I won't hurt you, Granger. I'll only bring you pleasure, as promised."

Glancing down at the wand's path as it traveled across both her exposed knees to the other hand, and followed a reverse course up her right arm, over her shoulder, across her neck, Draco brought it around her jaw towards her lips, lightly pressing it against the bottom of her chin and stroking back and forth. "I'll be gentle," he vowed in a low, lulling tone, placing his lips mere inches from her ear. "Gentle and obliging, just like you wanted."

Her body began shuddering against him, as her breath hitched. She kept her eyes forward with stubborn insistence, however, as if trying to convince herself that what he was doing to her wouldn't affect her.

There was no way in hell he was going to let her avoid what he made her feel!

Pressing the lightly buzzing wand against her mouth, he very gently traced the shape. "Have I told you that you have the perfect mouth, Granger? A plump, bottom lip and a small, heart-shaped bow at the top." He nuzzled his face closer, careful not to touch her with his mouth without her permission. "I could kiss that mouth for hours, beautiful."

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "You're exaggerating."

Tracing a path over her chin again and down the center of her throat, causing her to tilt her head back, Draco smirked. "No, beautiful, I would cherish that mouth of yours, if you'd let me. I'd suckle your bottom lip and lap at your slit until you let me in. I'd coax your tongue to come out and play with mine. I'd nibble your fleshy bits with my teeth. I'd linger over each melding of our lips, sharing my breath and flavour with you. I'd sweep into your mouth and learn you the same way. It would be like sharing a little bit of our souls." He lowered his eyelids and gave her a sultry, promising expression. "I _love_ kissing, Granger." The wand was tracing a path from shoulder to shoulder now, crossing over the halter. "Tell me true: has anyone ever taken the time to kiss you like that?"

Her eyes were wide, and in them, he saw the sad reality. Clearly, Granger was in need of a little T.L.C.

"You know I'm going to do that to you sometime before this game ends, don't you?" He used his wand against her jaw to turn her head towards him and stared her blatantly in the eye. "If nothing else, I'm going to kiss you as I've wanted to for years. You'll never forget my kiss when this whole thing is over. I'm going to make sure of it." He let his eyes move down her face to her lips, and back, saw the skepticism in her gaze and felt the challenge stir his blood. "Don't believe me?"

She looked him square in the eye, her doubt evident. "No man can kiss that good."

Still so fearless! He wanted to take those pillowed lips of hers right there –fuck her bones into the very couch, in fact- but the Slytherin within cautioned patience. He would only win her willingness by going slowly. "We'll see," he simply replied, letting his wand drop back down her neck, letting his eyes follow the tracing path.

He let the head of his fluttering wand travel down between her breasts next, and her reaction was immediate: she drew in a deep, short breath.

"You said nothing sexual," she reminded him, angry now.

"No, I promised I would do nothing disgusting, and to keep the wand over your clothes. I did caveat this whole thing as a sensual experience, however." He rubbed the wand over the round top of her breasts. "This is not gross in the least. It's provocative, without being nasty, and it's pleasurable for both of us." He tilted his chin to the couch arm. "Lay back."

His partner's eyes widened and she shook her head.

He nodded in return just as fervently.

"My card," he reminded her. "My need this time." At the stubborn glint in her eye, Draco growled in frustration. "Granger, you know I won't do anything to you that you don't want me to. I've already promised not to hurt you. I want this to be fun for both of us, so stop fighting me. Just cooperate and we can get this over with faster."

She considered his request for a full minute at least. "Nothing I don't want you to do?" she required of him to vow again.

Draco checked his impulse to sigh and nodded. "Swear it on my magic. You say, 'stop,' we stop. No questions asked."

The vow on his powers seemed to convince her, and she flowed downward somewhat awkwardly into the wide couch cushions, resting her head and shoulders flat on the soft, leather pad. Draco crowded in between her inert body and the couch backing, leaning up on an elbow. The two of them squirmed to adjust to each other's comfort, and finally fit nicely into the space. He loomed a bit over her as a result, looking down into her face, and it was suddenly a very erotic pose, as if he were mounting her for sex.

Dark cider-coloured eyes looked earnestly up at him, and in that moment, Draco felt his heart leap into his throat and constrict. He swallowed past the lump, fought off the urge to nuzzle her, and instead let his wand come to rest back in between her breasts once more. "Relax," he again coached. "Close your eyes if you want. It's just a sensual massage."

With a deep sigh of surrender and a grumbled, "Fine," her long, dark eyelashes fluttered down and her lids shut. "I can't relax so easily, though. Speak to me again," she requested. "Like the first massage."

Grabbing onto that idea, Draco slowly moved his wand up and down her sternum, tracing a path clear to her belly button and back up, leaning his mouth to her ear. He purposefully spoke in a low, honeyed tone, trying to both ease and ensnare her senses. "The room is dark. The only light comes from gentle slivers of silver beams from the moonlight drifting through an open window, casting shadows in the corners. The air is warm, a little sultry. You stand before the casement, magnificently dressed in a shimmering black, silken nightgown that caresses your skin with every movement."

He let the wand begin to slowly drag concentric circles all over her belly and waist.

"What am I doing here?" she whispered the question, as if this innocent act of participation was somehow too naughty for anyone else to hear.

Draco licked his lips, liking her partaking in her own seduction, continuing his lazily drawn rings around her dress, touching bared skin where the edges aligned.

"You're waiting," he replied in the same, enticing tone. "For your lover. He's promised to come to you soon."

"Where is he?" she asked in that same hesitant voice.

He couldn't have been served up a better line if he'd written this script himself. Leaning his mouth closer to her ear, he answered. "I'm here, beautiful. In the shadowy corner, watching you, where I've always been."

There was a significant pause of half a minute while she bit her lip, clearly considering how to reply. "Why are you hiding?" she finally murmured, turning her cheek into his.

Whoa, she was really getting into this! That astounded him, while at the same time, attracted him all the more to his partner. Role-play was one of Draco's favorite things to do, but who'd have guessed Miss Bookworm had such a fantastical fetish, too? It seemed he would have to reassess his assumptions about Hermione Granger when all of this was said and done.

"Not hiding, beautiful," he corrected her gently. "Waiting… for you to be ready for me." He moved the wand around until he was circling the underside of one perfect breast. "Are you ready now, do you think?" The wand trailed up and around one of her nipples, finding its outline through the dress, careful not to touch quite yet. The sensation on her areola, however, he knew would drive Hermione wild.

As expected, she gasped, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "Yes," she sighed. "I'm ready."

"Then take your nightdress off for me," he required, his mouth lingering so close to her skin that he could practically taste the strawberries scenting her hair product. "Stay in the moonlight just like that so I can see every inch of your delicious skin." He paused to give them both time to visualize it, then hummed in her ear. "Mmmm… your body makes me weak, beautiful. Your breasts are so ripe, with such pretty nipples." He let the buzzing wand finally caress the tiny bud he'd been teasing. "I could suck on these forever. Do you like my mouth here?"

Granger's mouth parted on a sexy, low moan that made his cock beg for release.

"Yes, your mouth feels so good right there! Lick me all over. Use your teeth… gently."

Circe's holy tits, did she really just say that?

He pressed his wand down a little harder as it ran over her in wide circle, narrowed into the center and then back out again. "Shall I mark both sides equally?"

She gave him permission with a whimpering nod and he moved the wand across to the neglected breast and repeated his performance. The juts of her tiny nips were hard points against the fabric of her dress, making his mouth simply water. "I worship you, beautiful," he venerated her with his voice. "I love touching you. I never want to stop."

To his utter surprise, her right hand came up and lightly gripped his wrist holding the wand. She guided him down her abdomen, towards her womb. "Then don't. I've wanted you to touch me like this for a long time." The wand tip reached the summit of her thighs and pressed down gently. "Don't stop."

Draco groaned, seriously fighting off the urge to stroke himself against her leg, where his obvious erection was now pressing. "Let me take you on the bed, beautiful." He closed his eyes and played out the sexy scenario in his mind as well. "Let me love you against those black, satin sheets. I want to see those rose petals all around your gorgeous body."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, take me there. Love me there."

He imagined taking her hand and walking the few steps to the bed of their shared dream, of laying her back, riding her down, bending over her as his lower body pressed against hers. He described it for her in detail, leaving his wand exactly where she'd left it off. "Can you feel me resting between your soaking, wet lips, beautiful? Feel how much I want you, how you drive me to this state every time you so much as look my way?" He was dying from the fire burning through his veins, caught up in the fantasy now, too. "Let me put my mouth on yours. Let me taste you while I work my way inside."

She paused, and he felt her swallow hard, and then she nodded. "Yes, I want to taste you, too."

That was all the encouragement Draco needed. Slowly, he dragged his lips over her jaw and cheek, until they hovered over hers. He opened his eyes, found hers still closed. "Look at me, beautiful," he coaxed. "I want you to know me."

Granger's whole body was shaking now, almost violently, as she dragged her lashes up, and her eyes opened to behold him. They stayed that way for long seconds, neither moving. "Say it again, now," he appealed, praying she wouldn't back down. He wanted this, but only if she knew who she was asking and only if she meant it. He wouldn't take this without consent. "Tell me to kiss you."

Hermione blinked once, twice, and then licked her lips. "Kiss me."

With infinitesimally patient, careful motion, Draco gave them their first kiss. He closed his eyes only once she did, and then it was to deepen the pressing of their lips together. As his tongue darted out to lightly lick, to entice her to open wider for him, the wand began stroking her slowly down between her legs, working into the groove of her slit and pressing against her core.

Hermione gasped at the pleasure he was provoking in her delicate clit, and the moment her mouth parted, he thrust his tongue in fully, reaching for hers. They both moaned at the sensation of stroking against the other, even as he cherished her lips at the same time. At the first small separation for breath, she let go of his wrist and thrust her fingers into his hair, pulling his face into hers, at the same time as grabbing his shirt with her freed hand and holding on.

"Beautiful," he murmured, moving back in to feast some more upon her luscious mouth. "You're _so_ _fucking_ _beautiful_, Granger." He groaned, losing himself in the singing of his blood from her touch and flavour, even as her hips began to gyrate against his wand in time to his stroking.

He kissed her as he promised he would earlier, giving her every bit of his skill to make this an unforgettable moment. She moaned into his mouth as her pelvis continued to pick up pace. "Malfoy… Oh, God! More!"

Holding nothing back from those kisses, Draco gave until his mind was so fuzzy that thinking was moot, and there was only action. He could feel her body tensing under his, knew she was close to finding her release, and all he could do was urge her on, desperate himself to hear and see and _know_ he'd brought her. "Come on, beautiful," he cajoled between thrusts of his tongue into her apple-scented mouth and kisses that ended with his teeth lightly tugging on her bottom lip. He tasted the salt of perspiration dotting her top lip as he dove back in for more. "That's it. Reach for what I'm giving you, love. Come apart for me."

Her eyes flew open as she crested the wave, as if she'd never known such pleasure could exist, and then they squeezed tight and she arched her back and found her bliss. Clamping her legs together around his hand, she cried out in release, her face and body and voice unchecked - completely uninhibited. She gave him everything, and it was the most honest thing he'd ever seen.

"_So beautiful,_" he murmured softly in awe, pressing his lips to hers once again, capturing the last of her scream, taming it and claiming it for his own.

Granger whimpered into his mouth and held onto him tight, trembling from head to toe even in the aftershocks. Finally, when sensation became too much, she took her hand from his hair, smoothing it down his arm, and silently requested he remove the stimulation from between her legs. He complied easily, refusing to break off from the kiss quite yet, however. Wanting more…

The chimes rang out, and he groaned in disappointment.

Fucking time limit!

Pulling away reluctantly, he looked down at her. There were tears in her eyes. Her quaking hand was still holding onto his wrist and she was struggling to regain control. Obdurate, steadfast, tenacious Hermione Granger had been moved by what they'd done! With cherry-coloured cheeks, shimmering chocolate orbs for eyes, and candied lips, she looked positively edible… and scared half to death.

"You've never done that before," he softly made the realization. "With a partner, I mean."

White teeth bit into her bottom lip as her shaking increased. "No."

He blinked in confusion, putting together what she was implying. "You've only ever made yourself climax."

Anger stirred in the dark depths that held his. "Don't laugh," she hissed low, but he could sense the pain lurking underneath.

Was it possible that neither Weasel had been able to make her come? Had he _really_ been the first man to make her orgasm? His heart took off madly, ripping itself free from the confines of his body and heading straight into the heavens. He'd been the first man to bring Hermione Granger - to experience her strumming the high note! Now, she'd never be able to forget him!

Lost momentarily in these revelations, leaning over her on one arm, he had absently begun twirling amber and earthen strands of her hair with that hand. Now he focussed again on her face. "I won't laugh or tease," he promised, lowering his lips to hers, locking their gazes. "It'll be our secret."

A glimmer of relief passed over her, before she lifted her mouth for his kiss. "Thank you."

Letting his wand drop to the floor, he allowed himself to come over her fully and shoved his fingers into her hair, claiming her lips in a final, blazing pull. She answered with equal ardor, running her fingers along the back of his neck, letting her nails massage his skull, tickling him. It was the sexiest, most luscious kiss he'd ever experienced, their tongues sparring and entangling, desperate for a last minute taste.

He made himself pull back, forced the reminder on them both that they needed to get moving or else they'd forfeit the chance to do this again next round. "Time to go."

Granger simply nodded, as he rolled to his feet and collected his shoes. He waited patiently for her to slip her sandals back into place and cinch them up, and then offered her a hand up. She took it without a second thought, pressing her palm into his as she made her feet, but he didn't let go immediately, instead tugging her back into his arms. As he held her against him, there was no hiding his lust for her; he didn't even try.

"Did you like your massages?"

Despite the moment of wariness he caught sliding through her eyes, she slipped her arms around his neck. "Very much. Thank you again."

Time for the big question: "Was the kiss as I promised? Could you forget it so easily?"

An impish glint appeared in her gaze, followed by a very wicked, sultry smirk. "What kiss?"

Draco blinked in astonished exasperation.

She _did not_ just say that!

"Did we kiss?" she kidded, pressing up on tiptoes to bring her mouth into alignment with his, becoming the aggressor now. "Hmm, seems I've forgotten already. I think you're going to have to remind me… Draco."

Draco narrowed his eyes, considered her change in mood, a smile tugging at his lips. "You've never forgotten a thing in your life, and you know it… Hermione." He dipped his head until his mouth buzzed hers. "Tricky witch."

Her snicker was cut off as he snogged her senseless once more, thrusting his tongue against hers, tasting every crevice of her mouth, embracing her against his pounding heart. She gave as good as she got, too. Slytherin Almighty, Gryffindor's Princess really knew how to kiss!

Reluctantly, she pulled away after a minute or two. He tried following her, tried to keep their lips melded together, but she broke off the kiss. Even then, however, neither seemed willing to move away completely. Her fingertips tickled his jaw line and cheeks, as his hands rubbed circles over the sway of her hind. Resting his forehead against hers, running down her cheek as he tried to rein in his desire, Draco sniffed in astonishment and smirked at his own foolishness. "Too tempting," he sighed in longing. "I want to shag you right here and now, all _bloody_ night long. The game can go hang."

Melting out of his arms, his partner quickly headed for the door, leaving him standing there with the erection of the century. Eying his trousers as she made the door and turned to flash a look at him over her shoulder, her smirk was positively sinful.

"Sorry, but no forfeiting for me yet. I'd like to know what opportunities the cards will offer us next."

With that, she turned the knob and stepped back into the common area without a backward glance.

"Evil siren," he grumbled after her, adjusted his cock in his pants. Draco took another minute to regain composure, thinking of cold and unpleasant things to get his raging hard-on deflated, and then headed out after his witch, secretly eager for the next round, too.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Draco Malfoy's last time calling Hermione Granger a Mudblood in the novels to coincide with the timeline we've established here for this fic (remember, Cedric didn't die and Voldemort was never resurrected in this Alternate Universe), was just before the Yule Ball. Specifically, he said this: **_**'You're not telling me someone's asked **__**that to**__** the ball? Not the long-molared Mudblood!' ('Goblet Of Fire', Chapter 23).**_** Between novels 1 – 4 (up to the point of where the timeline deviates for this fic), Malfoy *specifically* calls Granger a 'Mudblood' exactly four times (twice in "Chamber of Secrets," and twice in "Goblet of Fire"). **

**Periwinkle = A de-saturated colour of the blue/indigo/violet family. The flower itself (of the same name) means "early friendship" when given. **

**The scent of black cherries, crème anglaise and sandalwood is the designer scent attributed to Victoria's Secret's "Amber Romance" line of bath products. It sounded heavenly and something that would be both alluring and soothing, when I went online and looked for an appropriate massage oil scent.**

.

**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Say It" by Ne-Yo. Lyrics are as follows:**

_**Close the doors.**_  
_**Lay down.**_  
_**No, no, no, not like that...**_  
_**Like this, yea... I like that.**_  
_**Okay, now here's what I want you to do...**_  
_**I want you to look me right in my eyes,**_  
_**And I want you to tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.**_  
_**You ready?**_

_**Your body whispering from under the sheets...**_  
_**I hear it moaning begging loud and clearly.**_  
_**I'm rather fluent in the language it speaks,**_  
_**But it's your mouth I want to tell it to me.**_

_**Girl, why don't you**_  
_**Tell me what you want me to do to you?**_  
_**Say it, say it, say it...**_  
_**Girl, why don't you tell me what you want from me?**_  
_**Girl, won't you**_  
_**Say it, say it, say it...**_

_**It's not as if I'm not totally aware**_  
_**That you want my hands right here and my mouth right there...**_  
_**Girl, don't play shy, show me how bold you can be.**_  
_**Open your mouth and tell me where you want me.**_

_**Girl, why don't you**_  
_**Tell me what you want me to do to you?**_  
_**Say it, say it, say it...**_  
_**Girl, why don't you tell me what you want from me?**_  
_**Girl, won't you**_  
_**Say it, say it, say it...**_

_**Tell me what you want.**_  
_**Oh, you want that?**_  
_**Say the word.**_  
_**Turn around.**_

_**Anything that you want, baby, tell me you want it.**_  
_**I got it, babe.**_  
_**Tell me what you want.**_  
_**No more hoping and wishing...**_  
_**Name your position.**_  
_**I got it, babe.**_  
_**Tell me what you want and I got it, babe.**_  
_**Anything that you want, baby, tell me you want it.**_  
_**I got it babe.**_  
_**Tell me what you want.**_  
_**No more hoping and wishing...**_  
_**Name your position.**_  
_**I got it, babe.**_

_**Girl, why don't you**_  
_**Tell me what you want me to do to you?**_  
_**Say it, say it, say it...**_  
_**Girl, why don't you tell me what you want from me?**_  
_**Girl, won't you**_  
_**Say it, say it, say it...**_


	21. Chapter 4E: Seamus & Lavender

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: EL-EL-EL **__recommended the song, __**"(You Want To) Make A Memory" by Bon Jovi **__for Seamus & Lavender this go around. It perfectly reflects Seamus' thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to El-El-El__ - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK to: rzzmg at yahoo dot com.**

_**P.S. Unseenlibrarian**__ is a beta goddess. I worship her openly. So should you. :)_

**PLEASE REVIEW! **

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**CHAPTER FOUR (#5): Seamus & Lavender**

Seamus allowed Lavender to take the lead and guide him over to the couch in their private room once the door had been shut behind him. For once, she sat next to him without being coerced by the game's requirements, and he thought that to be a solid step forward. Her palm against his was a wee bit damp from nerves, however.

"Are ya sure ya wanna continue with the game, angel?" he asked, trying to give her one more chance to opt-out. "This'll be the last time I'll ask ya." According to an old Irish proverb, a three-time refusal really, truly meant that you were sincere, rather than simply being polite. It's why he tended to ask the truly important questions, like this one, in triplicate.

His partner stared at her card for a moment in silence, re-reading it. Her indecision and consternation were stamped into her features; her frown was heavy and her eyes filled with uncertainty.

For a long minute, Seamus held his breath, afraid she'd simply decide to call the whole thing off, wish him a good road, and walk out of his life. To his great relief, though, she took a deep breath and mustered her courage in the Gryffindor way, handing him her card without a word. He read it.

_**DEED: You get to ask your partner any five questions you want about them and they must answer wholly and truthfully.**_

Feck. This whole shite had the potential to go downhill fast if she asked him something really uncomfortable. He had secrets - two really big ones in particular - and he wasn't sure how she'd handle hearing them. Hell, they'd probably scare her off. He didn't want that, but he didn't want to lie to her either. He felt torn.

Trying to keep his face as neutral as possible so he didn't give away his concerns, Seamus simply nodded his acceptance of the card's requirements, and offered his card for her to read.

_**DEED: Your partner must dance with you – however you want.**_

A very feminine blush bloomed across Lavender's cheeks.

"We can do yers first, if ya want," he offered, leaving himself wide open for what he knew would be the flaying of his life. He was sure she was going to use her questions to probe his feelings and memories, and to discover the secrets that he wasn't sure she'd be prepared to handle. "I don't mind being honest wit' ya, Lavender. I only hope ya can be accepting of me, tho' – the good and ugly alike." He cupped her chin and tilted it so she would have to meet his gaze. "I've been no angel in me short life, as ya know, but remember that all the mess made me who I am today, ya? And, I'd like ta think I'm not a bad bloke." His partner assessed him in silence, measuring his sincerity. Knowing that this was a make-it-or-break-it moment, Seamus dropped his defences and spoke from the heart. "I want ya, so even if ya ask me somethin' that stings or hurts deep, I'll always tell ya true – card game or no. No lies a'tween us, Lavender. Not from me. Can ya handle that?"

His witch considered his offer, and then nodded, letting out a deep breath. "Merlin knows, I haven't exactly been an angel either, Sea. There might be things you learn about me during this game that will change your opinion of me, too. But… I'll try not to be a hypocrite and judge. I'll _try_."

He nodded in accord, releasing her chin and flowed back into the sofa. "Then, ask away, angel. Ask me as many questions as ya have need. Just save me a handful o' minutes at the end for our dance, yeah?"

Adjusting her position on the couch so she took the corner and could stare at him without having to be uncomfortable, she crossed her ankles and rested them on top of his thighs. Her right hand smoothed across the satin of her dress, as she considered her first question.

Seamus mentally girded himself up for absolutely anything to pop out of her mouth.

"How did you _really_ feel about me back then?" she asked, hitting hard right out of the gate. There was no question about which time period she was speaking.

"I fancied ya, a hell of a lot," Seamus admitted. "I meant what I said a'fore: I wanted ya fer me girl, serious-like, doncha know?" He tilted his head and gave her a shy smile, letting one hand smooth over her ankle in a tentative caress. "Ya were me first true love, sweet angel."

Lavender blinked at him in astonishment, her face turning a darker shade of red.

"Steam's comin' outta yer ears, me witch," he teased, chuckling, continuing to stroke the hollow area right below her ankle bone - a place he knew was an erotic spot for most women. "Have I said somethin' ya didn't wanna know?"

His ex cleared her throat, trying to compose her features by looking down at her hand resting on her thigh. "The night we had sex-"

"Made love," he interrupted.

She glanced back up at him, clearly confused. "You didn't really love me then - it was just... infatuation, and it was over too quick to be called love-making."

He took the pot shot to his ego and sighed, shaking his head. "It was as close as I could'a come then ta such a feeling, given me age and lack of experience. Ya were _never_ a one-off fer me, though. It wasn't just sex ta me either. I felt a... strong connection to ya, even then. I'd wanted our first time ta be good. Bloody hell, I'd been stalkin' ya since after the Yule Ball the year a'fore, thinkin' o' ways to get ya attention so ya'd want ta be mine."

His partner's mouth gaped open. "You were?"

He huffed in exasperation. "Are ya that daft, woman? Why'd ya think I'd asked ya ta be me study partner after the Christmas break, and ta go ta Hogsmeade wit' me? And why'd ya think I sent ya chocolates on Valentine's?"

Her expression shifted again, molding into lines of anger. "Because you'd made a bet with Dean that you'd get in my knickers before the school year ended!"

Seamus cut short the counter that leapt to his lips and instead grinned, knowing he'd been found out. "Well, ya, I'll cop ta havin' made that bet, but that's not really why I asked ya. I was hopin' ta win ya by then, ya see, and I'd planned ta use the money ta buy ya somethin' nice or ta take ya ta Madam Puddifoot's. It was jus' a bit o' locker room braggin' ta cover up me long-term plans fer ya. Besides, I rather liked th' idea o' Dean payin' fer a nice date fer us. Question is, lass, how did _ya _know about it?"

Lavender rolled her eyes. "Did you forget that my best friend is the Queen of Gossip around this place? I knew that same afternoon."

He laughed. "Ya intentionally shot me down then? Just so I'd lose?"

His partner tweaked one golden eyebrow up and smirked at him. "It was fun seeing what hoops you'd jump through. You'd gotten increasingly desperate and more creative there near the end of second term, as the school year was coming to a close, I noticed."

"As I recall, ya were hangin' wit' tha' ponce from Durmstrang more often by then, ya?" he chuckled, just then figuring out he'd been played right back by his feisty, gutsy witch.

His partner's lips were stretched wide, and a knowing, mischievous glimmer appeared in her eye. "You mean Tolga, Krum's best friend?" She faux breathed a sigh of longing and batted her eyelashes. "Ah, yes, he was _quite_ the gentleman - strong, handsome, and _respectful_. His kisses tasted like fine-"

Seamus' humor melted away in an instant and he couldn't help the jealous growl that rumbled through his chest and escaped through his tightly closed lips. Krum's mate had been his nemesis that year, appearing at their side during the Yule Ball to cut-in for a dance, and then honing in on Lavender while Seamus had stepped away for a few minutes to hit the loo. After that, for the rest of the year, the guy would randomly stop at Gryffindor's table in the Great Hall to speak with Brown, playfully flirting with her. Being reminded of how his witch had fawned all over the other man made things in Seamus' guts tighten.

In a move he knew would surprise her, he pounced, knocking Lavender's legs to the side and receiving unfettered access to her belly. Relentlessly, he moved in for the kill… His partner was helpless under the assault of his tickling fingers, laughing uncontrollably as he showed her no mercy.

"Tell me my kisses are better, or I'll tickle ya 'til ya pee," he playfully threatened, tucking away his dark possessiveness so as not to frighten her off.

"You… wouldn't… dare!" his ex challenged, gasping for breath, giggling uproariously and squirming like crazy under him.

He leered at her. "I'd been willin' ta bet on gettin' into ya knickers, and ya _still _doubt there are levels I wouldn't stoop ta get what I want?"

"All right, I give!" she surrendered, putting her hands on his chest to push him off. "I'll tell you."

His fingers paused, and he waited, a part of him mistrustful of her easy capitulation.

Looking up at him, Lavender's lips twitched with mischief. "I'll tell you… that… he snogged me under the-"

Her comment was cut off by his renewed assault on her ribs until tears streamed from her eyes and she was begging. Seamus finally stopped when she wailed that she was sorry. "How sorry are ya, angel?" he asked, bracing his hands behind her on the arm of the couch, capturing her between them. He leaned his face down, stopping inches from her lips, feeling a strong compulsion to make her melt under his mouth's attentions and forget the fact that other men even existed. "Sorry enough ta let me try ta out-kiss yer Bulgarian Bon-Bon?"

Panting for breath, her facial features alive with excitement and daring, she twitched her eyebrow at him again. "I doubt you could."

"Oh?" he asked, angling his head closer. "Wanna bet on it?"

Tilting her head, she considered the proposition, narrowing her eyes at him. "What's the bet?"

Seamus' heart took off like a rabbit. He was going to get a chance to kiss her this round after all! "If yer hands touch me during the kissin', I get yer card next round, in addition to me own."

"Okay, but if I win, I want yours."

He smirked, feeling assured of the outcome. "Sure thing, angel."

Lavender put her hands under her bottom and smirked back, equally as confident. "Then I give permission for you to snog away, Finnigan. Do your worst."

"Intend to," he whispered as his lips crushed into hers.

_Na síogaí, _he loved the taste of this witch! She was so sweet, like... honey. He was drawn in to kiss deeper, harder, desperate for more of her luscious flavour.

Gripping the nape of her neck, Seamus tilted his lover's face back to gain a more advantageous position, opening her up with passionate force. His fingers sifted through the silky, golden strands of her hair, securing her, assuring she couldn't turn away from the all-consuming burn he intended on working over her. Ravenous for her kiss, he gave her all of the fire within his heart, rasping velvety licks over her sweet, soft lips, thrusting into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth in a rhythm to mimic the unconscious swaying of his hips as he knelt over her quivering form. He lapped and coaxed, teasing her one moment, only to sweep in with fierce, resolute possession the next. In this way, he let her know that he _wanted_ her; wanted to win her back, no matter the cost.

As he melded them together, enticing her with grasping, greedy pulls of lips, he touched her face with his free hand, softly caressing the skin with his fingertips and knuckles. He stroked her jaw, traced the shell of her ear, and sensuously flicked the lobe with his thumb, brushing it with a barely-there touch.

Gods alive, how could he have denied himself this pleasure for two whole years? How had he stayed away from her?

The kiss did as intended: it melted Lavender's resolve. With a low, husky moan, her hands flew into his hair and grabbed hold. There was no room for exultation at the conquest, however, as Seamus was fully engrossed in pleasing his woman.

They clung to each other, and he was careful not to rub his body against hers, wanting this time only for kissing; wanting to make up for all the kisses he'd failed to give her that one night, two years ago. There was gasping and groaning and moaning, but no words. He gave her pure, uninterrupted devotion.

It was Lavender who broke the kiss. Pulling her mouth away and turning her cheek into his, she held him, trembling in his embrace. "I lose," she capitulated with a sigh.

Seamus drew back, stared down into those lovely baby blues of hers. "Is it such a bad thing, wantin' me?"

With a fingertip, she traced his lips, letting her eyes linger over her gentle movements. "It's so hard to forget, Sea. I was hurt so deeply by you. I'd fancied myself in love with you since the Yule Ball, but then I heard about that stupid bet, and I was _sure_ you were just playing me so you could brag on winning. The next year, I took a chance on trusting you anyway." She let all her breath out and closed her eyes. "When you left right after we… made love… I felt so used. I thought you'd only slept with me to prove that you _could_, especially after not winning the bet the year before."

Her lids fluttered open and she pressed her fingertips with some small pressure to prevent him from speaking in his defence just yet. Seamus shut up, determined to let her finish, promising to hear her through. His Lavender was talking to him finally, and he wouldn't blow this opportunity to know her thoughts and feelings again.

"Even though I understand now why you left me there alone afterwards, and that you didn't mean to hurt me, it's still hard to forget. You broke my heart." With more bravery than he'd given her credit for, she stared him in the eye once more. "I'm scared to trust you again. It's been two years, but… I've heard the rumors. I know you've been around, and how you make women feel. Every girl I know whom you've ever slept with _still_ pines for another chance with you; I hear them talk in the loo or in the dorms or in the corners of the courtyards." She seemed genuinely distressed again. "I can't be like that again, Sea. I cried for weeks and weeks, and every time I saw you with a girl for the next eight months, I felt such hatred for you… and for myself, for being so jealous."

Her frown ruined her beauty, he decided. He never wanted to see it again.

Removing her fingers from his lips, he finally decided to have his say. "Lavender, I know I don't deserve another go wit' ya, but… I been watchin' ya on and off ever since ya stopped talkin' ta me two years ago, wonderin' if I'd ever get a chance ta make things up ta ya." He smoothed the hair back from her forehead. "I'm askin' ya to _please_ give us this chance… and not just fer the game, as I tol' ya already." Pressing his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes and spoke from the heart. "Ya, I've taken a lot o' witches to me bed, lass, but it's true that ya never ferget yer first love. I know it sounds like a line, but all I can do is promise ya on me bones that it isn't."

He peeked through his lashes to be speared on her frightened gaze; she was biting her bottom lip so hard it was reddened. It was time to pull back, to give her some breathing space so she could consider his proposal.

Letting her go, he slowly scooted back on the sofa to resume the seat he'd vacated earlier, lifting her legs with care and placing them back across his lap exactly as they had been earlier in the round.

"I'll make ya another wager, angel," he offered, wanting to ease her fears, "startin' next round, ya can put ta me any one question ya'd like answered during the game, at any time, and I have ta answer it truthfully, no evadin'. After I've given up the answer, tho', I want a kiss from ya in reward fer puttin' me through the ringer. In exchange, ya'll do the same fer me. This way, we get ta know each other without pretense." He held up a finger to cut off her obvious protest. "I promise here and now not ta ask ya yer True Witch's Name. If ya want ta tell me it fer free, then I'm all ears, but I won't force that from ya ever. But anything else goes. What say ya?"

Uneasily, she nodded. "Okay, but I get to ask the first question next time."

Seamus readily agreed, even knowing that it meant she could find out his darkest secrets. He'd take the chance for another shot with her. "Fine by me." He gave her what he hoped was a warming, encouraging smile. "So, ye've still got four more questions this round ta ask. Fire away, love."

Lavender's gaze strayed to the magically lit hearth nearby as she puzzled out her next query, and he watched the fire change the color of her irises to a purplish hue. Entranced by her profile, he followed the curve of her cheek, noting the perfection of her jaw and nose and lips. Her golden lashes were dark with mascara and liner, but the makeup didn't prevent her natural beauty from showing through.

Lands alive, he really wanted to touch her!

"I only have one more question I want to ask this round, and I'll give up the rest," she finally decided, swinging her face back his way. "How many women have you had, exactly?"

Seamus took a deep breath and looked down at the perfection of her feet, tracing the pearl buttons on her anklet strap. This one was going to be hard. "Off the top o' me head, I don't know," he replied honestly. "O'er twenty at least, and most o' them have been here at school. But some have been during breaks, back in Ireland – especially during summer and winter hols." He glanced up at her through his sooty lashes. "Do ya need names?"

Lavender's hand stroked back and forth over the fabric of her dress in a nervous gesture. "No… Yes. Yes, I think I need to know."

His attention fixated on her ankles again. "Okay, but I'll be askin' ya not to be angry wit' some o' them. Firewhisky and parties and other such crike can make people do crazy shite, as ya know." He started his list for her then, trying to be as accurate as possible: Pansy Parkinson, then Lavender next, followed by Angelina Johnson, Julie Parkes, Natalie Fairbourne, Rachael Codnor, Vicky Frobisher, Katie Bell, Fay Dunbar, Parvati and Padma Patil both, Romilda Vane, Ginny Weasley, Marietta Edgecombe, Lisa Turpin, Mandy Brocklehurst, Morag MacDougal, Su Li, Maxine O'Flaherty, Tamsin Applebee, Megan Jones, three girls around their own age from his home town – all of them Muggles, and two of those girls' divorced, late 30-something/early 40-something mothers, Lynna O'Connor and Maddy Fletcher.

"I knew about Parvati, but you shagged Padma, too?" his partner asked in what looked to be hurt shock.

Seamus felt the heat rising in his cheeks. "Ah… technically… we all did it together."

Lavender's jaw hit the floor. "You had a threesome with my best friend _and_ her twin sister?"

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart, feeling the sweat break out on his forehead and lip, and under his arms. "Su and Tamsin were there, too. And… there were two blokes involved – Blaise Zabini and Anthony Rickett. We were all pissed on this drink Tam smuggled in her trunk ta school. It was an aphrodisiac tea made from Kava Kava. And Rickett had some Muggle Wingers we all tried, too. The combo made us all mad for a _serious_ ride. We were hard and sniping for hours - outta our _feckin'_ minds. It was like… ya ever been totally uninhibited? No? Well, tha's what we were. Thank the Founders tha' Su cast the charm against pregnancy and disease on all o' us a'fore the party really started."

He gave her a regretful grimace and shook his head. His accent was really thick now, but try as he might, he was too nervous to control it.

"I didn't bugger any bloke or let 'em bugger me - I swear it on me ma's good name, but… I did all the girls, and not gentle-like, ya know? Even took 'em with the other fellas at the same time. Ya know, two or three pene at once. After, I felt sick in me guts and never did anythin' like it again. But it's not somethin' ya can go back and change now it's over, can ya?"

He leaned his head back against the sofa and stared up at the ceiling, feeling a dark, hollow pit open up in his belly. "I wish I could take it back, tho'. It scunders me now, tellin' it ta ya, knowin' you're sitting there thinkin' me some twisted breed o' skanger."

Lavender was silent for several minutes, digesting what he'd said. Hell, she was probably envisioning it, too.

Merlin, why had he been such a man-slag? Yeah, he knew his Mam's blood was mostly responsible, as the nature of her family's magical lineage was one of flighty, fickle, sexual beings, but still, he knew he could have reined his lusts in a little better. Unlike a Sex-Warlock, he wasn't compelled towards fucking everything that moved. He just... was a bit on the randy side. Sex wasn't _necessary_, but he sure craved it, like a really pure, sweet honey. It had gotten him into a bit of a fix as a result...

"I had sex with Ron when he was still with Hermione."

Seamus sat upright in absolute astonishment. His whole attention fixated on his ex-girlfriend in that second, as her confession of disloyalty and infidelity slammed between them like an audible slap across the face and blew him away. His own problems were shoved to the side for the moment.

Lavender cheated with Ron against her very good friend? She _willingly _betrayed Hermione?

Perhaps it was a product of his upbringing, but even Seamus had never stepped over such sacred lines, believing friendship was not something to abuse. As his Da always said, you never walked in another man's (or in this case, woman's) garden without permission, or you risked getting manure all over you.

There had to be a rational explanation.

Quietly, he evaluated his ex's demeanor and words, giving her the opportunity to explain, not wanting to judge without the facts.

"It was a one-off, after seeing him at a Chudley Cannons' game last summer," she admitted, and the shame was apparent all over her features, especially when she lowered her eyes to the hem of her garment once more. "Hermione didn't go with him; it was just he and his older brother, Charlie, me, and my older brother, Thomas. We went to a pub to celebrate the Cannons' win, but Charlie and Thomas went home after a few rounds. Ron and I stayed and got to talking. We spent hours chatting each other up and got on famously, it turned out."

She paused to pluck at a piece of lint off the sofa, but Seamus could tell it was so she could gather her courage. He patiently waited her out.

"It was crazy really – probably because we'd had one too many Butterbeers - but on a spur of the moment, we went back to the stadium to see if we could get an autograph from any of the players to commemorate the rare win. The place was cleared out, though. We stuck around, walking up and down the stands, and talked some more. I told him about what happened between you and me, and Ron confided that he and Hermione were at the end of their relationship. They'd both been dancing around the subject for a few weeks, but he said he knew it wasn't working out, because they fought all the time, and he didn't feel that special bond with her anymore. He was _really_ broken up about it, because she'd been his first true love."

She smiled somewhat sadly then. "I guess… I felt a connection with him – with his suffering. I could relate to getting your heart broken, you know? The next thing, we knew, we were kissing and it got out of hand. We ended up doing it in the bleachers."

A small crease appeared in her forehead as her face took on an aspect of regret. "It was comfort sex, for both of us. It helped to reaffirm in our own minds that we were still worthy people, and that it was just the situations we'd been stuck in that were bad. I think hooking up like that was what helped us both to move on with our lives."

She rubbed her hand over her face in mortification. "He broke it off with Hermione a week later; he'd finally got the guts to say, 'I'm done.' Two weeks after school started, he approached me again in the library to talk. We've been seeing each other on and off, in a casual way, ever since."

She glanced back up at him nervously, her face firm with resolve. "Hermione can _never_ know, Sea. It kills me to walk around every day and lie straight to her face, but she wouldn't understand. It wasn't intentional what happened between Ron and me; we didn't expect to have sex. And even though she and he were all but finished by then, that doesn't change the fact that what he and I did was wrong. But to tell her would only hurt everyone involved more – especially Hermione. I'll live with the guilt eating me up before I shatter her self-confidence like that."

"Ya carry the stress o' regret around in yer eyes," he noted. "It's there, if ya look close enough."

Lavender nodded. "I regret what we did _very much_. I will for the rest of my life. It eats me up to know I betrayed a friend, especially for selfish reasons. But like you said, a person can't take back their actions. You just learn to live with the sins and move on, and you promise _never_ to do it again."

Seamus considered all she'd said, as well as what he knew of Lavender, Ron, and Hermione, and nodded, accepting that sometimes people made really big, stupid mistakes that later they lamented (boy, didn't _he_ know it!). Besides, this wasn't his secret to share, as it had been given over in confidence, and also, Lavender was right - what would it accomplish now to tell Granger the truth? All it would do is destroy the peace, ruin three friendships, and break the Head Girl's heart. Some skeletons were best left hanging in the closet and taken to the grave. This was one such carcass.

He stared at his ex-girlfriend and suddenly realized that she was a lot more mature than he'd previously thought. Some women, he knew from experience, had no compunction about taking what they wanted, no matter who it hurt, and they lacked the heart to feel any guilt about such a wrongdoing. It wasn't that he was excusing her behavior – cheating was a big no-no in his book – but he'd done some pretty rotten things himself, and so was in no position to be throwing stones.

Lavender gave him a sad, apologetic smile. "See? Not so sweet or angelic after all."

Seamus trailed a hand up her leg, smoothing it back and forth to try to soothe her. "Lav, we both have pasts, but that doesn't change me opinion of ya. Ta me, I see a beautiful woman, inside and out, when I look at ye." He let his eyes drop to her slightly parted lips, felt a stirring of lust rise to the surface. He let his gaze roam down her body, then back up to catch her face. "A sweet angel with the body o' a succubus, that makes me harder 'n granite."

Damn, but this was heading into territory he knew she wasn't ready for…

He stood up to put a bit of space between them so he could cool down, feeling uncomfortable and overheated in his long-sleeved dress shirt. What had he been thinking wearing such a thing in the beginning of June anyway? He unbuttoned it in quick succession, stripped it off, and tossed it onto the couch. His white, cotton tank underneath gave him some semblance of modesty, so he wouldn't scare Lavender terribly by such an unexpected move, at least.

"Sea?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Just… give me a sec, love. Got meself goin' there."

She was quiet for a few minutes, while he worked to calm his erection.

"Maybe… we should do your card soon," she offered. "Time's almost up, I think."

His card. Yeah, right, he still hadn't received his reward this round. And dancing was safe, but affectionate. It would be a nice way to end this session.

With an easy thought, he darkened the room so that only the magically-lit fire provided light, creating a romantic ambiance. He then offered her his hand.

"May I have this dance, me Sweet Lass?"

Hesitantly, Lavender put her palm in his and he helped her to her feet. He manoeuvered them into a slow dance position, one arm wrapping about her waist, pulling her in close, while the other lightly gripped hers out away from their bodies, in the traditional waltz stance he'd been taught for the Yule Ball by McGonagall. In a flash of inspiration, he knew just the song he wanted to hear: "Come A Little Closer" by Dierks Bentley, a young, up-and-coming American country music singer that his older sister – a _huge_ fan of Muggle music - had introduced him to when she'd taken him by Side-along Apparation to Nashville, Tennessee for a concert this last summer.

By magic, literally, the music started, and Seamus drew his witch into him so close that their bodies rubbed against each other as they swayed, and his cheek was pressed to her temple.

_**Come a little closer, baby.**__**  
**__**I feel like layin' you down**__**  
**__**on a bed of sweet surrender,**__**  
**__**where we can work it all out.**__**  
**__**There ain't nothing that love can't fix.**__**  
**__**Girl, it's right here at our fingertips.**__**  
**__**So, come a little closer, baby.**__**  
**__**I feel like layin' you down.**_

He turned his head a bit, and inhaled the enticing scent of her shampoo – citrusy, with a very light lavender scent behind it. It calmed his racing heart, made him relax a bit, reminded him that this dance wasn't about sex, but about intimacy. He wanted to build that up between them. He needed her to be comfortable with their contact, because he could feel her tension every time they touched.

_**Come a little closer, baby.**__**  
**__**I feel like lettin' go**__**  
**__**of everything that stands between us,**__**  
**__**and the love we used to know.**__**  
**__**I wanna touch you like a cleansing rain.**__**  
**__**Let it wash all the hurt away.**__**  
**__**So, come a little closer, baby.**__**  
**__**I feel like lettin' go.**_

She didn't speak yet, but seemed to hear the words of the song, as he'd intended – words he felt could have been stolen from his heart for this moment.

With a deep sigh, he closed his eyes and listened, too.

_**If there's still a chance,**__**  
**__**then take my hand,**__**  
**__**and we'll steal away**__**  
**__**off into the night,**__**  
**__**'till we make things right.**__**  
**__**The sun's gonna rise on a better day.**_

Lavender's skin was so warm against his, and her light breath tickled his neck on each exhale, and it was hard not to want more, feeling her breasts pressed against his chest.

Tilting his head down, Seamus nuzzled her hairline and breathed in her scent once more. He sighed anew, and prayed she'd fall for him as he was already falling for her again.

_**Come a little closer, baby.**__**  
**__**I feel like strippin' it down**__**  
**__**back to the basics of you and me,**__**  
**__**and what makes the world go round.**__**  
**__**Every inch of you against my skin.**__**  
**__**I wanna be stronger than we've ever been.**__**  
**__**So, come a little closer, baby.**__**  
**__**I feel like strippin' it down.**_

The lyrics of this song were entirely too provocative.

He fought off his cock's stiffening reaction to the idea of stripping her down and feeling every inch of her bare skin, but that was a monumentally difficult task with her scent in his nose, and her lithe body swaying in time with his.

This was bad; he was going tight and hard against her thigh. Surely, she could feel it!

_**Come a little closer, baby.**__**  
**__**Just a little bit closer, baby.**__**  
**__**Come a little closer, baby.**__**  
**__**I feel like layin' you down.**_

Shite, lying down with her… and licking those pretty breasts as he pressed against her wet, aching core…

No! _Fuck!_ This moment was about rebuilding trust, and for once in his feckin' life where a woman was concerned, he wasn't going to make this about sex!

He angled his hips away, knowing she would feel what he couldn't control, and broke off the dance with a kiss to her warm cheek, trying to distract her from looking down. "Thank ya fer the dance, sweet angel - and fer telling me yer secret. I promise not ta tell a soul."

Those hauntingly beautiful, baby blues, glowing with flickering firelight, captured him again. "Thank you, for listening, and your promise, and for the dance…" Her free hand around his neck, slipped down his chest, caressing his right nipple in passing, moving down over his abs, and cupped his obvious arousal. Seamus groaned and closed his eyes against the pleasure her fingers evoked as she stroked him up and down a few times. "And for trying so hard not to scare me with this."

"Lavender…" he gently warned, stepping back.

She flowed with him however, pressing her body into his again, so close he could practically taste the sugar of her tempting lips. "Next round, I want a chance to pleasure you," she purred through half-lids, her fingers increasing their pressure, causing his cock to pulse, ache… crowd his bloody shorts to the point of pain.

"Angel…" he growled, reaching to grab her wrist to stop her. "I didna want this ta be about sex. I wanna earn yer trust back."

Pressing her mouth to his for a slow, lingering, entirely too-shattering kiss, Seamus was surprised by the whimper that escaped his throat.

"I want both," she lightly bit his bottom lip, making him pant in response.

Restraining her had only seemed to make Lavender more determined. Stroking her fingernails up and down his stiff length as they kissed, she boldly stared him in the eye, making it clear that she would not let him dictate the direction of their new relationship. She'd been up-front in stating that she was a dominant in bed, and evidently, she needed to assert control in their new relationship to feel completely comfortable trusting him again. Since that was Seamus' ultimate goal, he decided he could let her have this much right now, if it would help his case.

Letting her wrist go, he allowed Lavender free roam over his covered shaft, trusting her not to mistreat the most sensitive area on his body.

Desire flared through his veins as her tongue sought his and he allowed her to take the lead. As they kissed, her hand never stopped its exploratory memorization of his shape, stroking him from tip to bollocks through his trousers. Her soft moan of surprise as she realized his true size made him almost lose his resolve; it was enough of an enticement, in fact, to allow her to unbuckle his belt, to unbutton and unzip his slacks, and to reach down to touch him. His cock was so hard that he stood well above the waist band of his pants - naked to her eye should she choose to look.

Unrestrained, she ran smooth caresses over the wet, hot head, swiping his pre-come all over the crown with a thumb. Seamus groaned and thrust his hips once in a silent cue for her to grip him. She did exactly as he wished, but stilled with him resting in her palm, feeling the weight of him, discovering his girth. The light, investigating fingers were driving him wild, and when she stroked rather boldly up and down his length twice, to his surprise, he realized he wasn't going to last much longer. Lavender's touch had unmade him faster than any other woman he'd been with before.

He needed to halt this before things got out of control.

"Lavender, me love, we should stop here, a'fore I lose me sanity," he gently murmured against her lips. "I wanna make love ta ya – proper, like ya deserve - but we're not ready yet for tha' step, I think." He gently moved her hand off his steel dick and brought it to his mouth for a small kiss. "We should slow down a bit. We've got time."

Lavender acquiesced with a sigh and a nod, but looked up at him with lustful fire, burning him to his centre with her need. "Next round, though, Sea, I'm in control."

The chimes rang out, but they didn't move, too caught up in the silent tug-of-war going on between them.

If he gave her what she wanted, he wasn't sure he could stop himself from trying to fuck her. But if he didn't… She'd told him she liked being a dominant in bed. That meant he'd have to curb his natural inclinations and accept being her submissive. He'd told her he could do it - would do it, should she want - and now she wanted, so he'd have to put his money where his mouth was.

"Fine, lass, I'll be what ya need," he consented with another small kiss, almost chaste, to her lips, hovering over them as he pulled away, peeking at her through his lashes. "Just… don't hurt me either, ya?"

She stroked his shaved cheek with tentative fingers. "I'll try not to."

With a shuddering breath, he nodded and then stepped away. He fixed his pants, adjusting and tucking himself back inside with some small amount of pain before zipping and buttoning back up, then turned to collect his shirt, slipping back into it, but leaving it unbuttoned.

As he reclaimed her hand in his to walk them back out to the main room, opening the door and letting her through ahead of him with a display of perfect manners, Seamus couldn't help but feel intense relief. They'd reach an accord, _finally_. It was the breakthrough he been hoping and praying for – specifically, her agreement not only to allow him to try to win her heart, but that she would reciprocate.

They had that second chance he'd so desperately wanted. Now, he just had to make sure he didn't screw it up again - which meant, making love to _all _of her this time - mentally, spiritually, and physically. That was something he honestly thought that, for the first time, he could do with a woman.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**- All of the girls named in Seamus' list are actual students at Hogwarts (compiled from the books and "Harry Potter" video game characters).**

**- Tolga is actually the name of the real life actor who played Viktor Krum's aide in the movie (since the character he portrayed was never actually named). I borrowed it for this fic.**

**- Kava Kava is obtained from the shrub Piper methysticum, which is native to the Polynesian Islands. It has been used by the Islanders as a religious and visionary herb and aphrodisiac for most of their history. Since none of the active ingredients of Kava Kava are water soluble, the natives would pre-chew the roots and then blend this saliva/root mixture with coconut milk. The resulting liquid was then fermented to produce a potent beverage that was used for important rituals. The effect of the drink is to relax spinal activity, producing an euphoric state of relaxation but without impairing mental activity. Some subjects also experience a tingling feeling in the genitalia, producing all the ingredients for an interesting sexual experience (it is known to direct increase sexual desire and prowess, even increasing the intensity of the sensations felt during orgasm).Over use of Kava Kava has been known to cause dangerous respiratory and skin problems. Source: **_**www . altnature . com**_**.**

**- Wingers = Ecstasy (the drug)**

**- I am aware that "Come A Little Closer" by Dierks Bentley didn't come out until 2005, and this fic takes place in 1998. However, I did point out that Dierks was an "up and coming" country star at the time this story takes place, and according to my research on the song itself, it was written back in 1996 as one of his first attempts. I'm going with creative license and saying he performed the song a few times live before it was "officially" released when he was contracted, and that Seamus had seen that performance with his sister. Stretching it, I know, but… this **_**is**_** fanfic, right?**

**.**

**Translator for "Seamus speak":**

'**Em = Them**

'**N = Than**

**A'tween = Between**

**A'fore = Before**

**A ride = Slang for 'having sexual intercourse'**

**Bugger = Slang for 'anal intercourse'**

**Could'a = Could have**

**Crike = Slang for "crazy life experiences"**

**Doncha = Don't you**

**Feck/Freckin' = Slang for "fuck" (specifically used to mean: "this situation is really, really bad and I'm not happy about it at all"; **_**not **_**used for the verb to mean "having sex").**

**Fellas = Fellows (guys)**

**Hols = Holidays**

**Mad = Slang for 'desperate,' in this particular connotation**

**Me = My**

**MILFs = Crude acronymn for "Mothers I'd Like to Fuck"**

_**Na síogaí**_** = (pronounced "na shee-ogue-ee") Means "Fairy folk" in Gaelic. Encompasses a large grouping of hominid beings with ties to nature and who feature an exceptional beauty. **

**O'er = Over**

**Outta = Out of**

**Pissed = Slang for "drunk"**

**Scunders = Slang for "embarrasses"**

**Skanger = Slang for "scumbag"**

**Sniping = Slang for "gaining sexual knowledge about people who are your friends" (particularly after a night at the local pub with one-too-many drinks under your belt)**

**Tha' = That**

**Tha's = That's**

**Tho' = Though**

**Took 'em = Slang for "had sex with"**

**Two or Three pene = Slang for "double or triple sexual penetration"**

**Wanna = Want to**

**Ya = You**

**Ye'll = You will**

**Yers = Yours**

**Wit' = With**

**.**

**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "(You Want To) Make A Memory" by Bon Jovi. Lyrics are as follows…**

_**Hello again, it's you and me.**_  
_**Kind of always like it used to be.**_  
_**Sipping wine, killing time,**_  
_**Trying to solve life's mysteries.**_

_**How's your life? It's been a while.**_  
_**God, it's good to see you smile.**_  
_**See you reaching for the keys,**_  
_**Looking for a reason not to leave.**_

_**If you don't know if you should stay,**_  
_**If you don't say what's on your mind,**_  
_**Baby, just breathe…**_  
_**There's nowhere else tonight we should be.**_  
_**You want to make a memory?**_

_**I dug up this old photograph,**_  
_**Look at all that hair we had.**_  
_**It's bittersweet to hear you laugh.**_  
_**Your phone is ringing; I don't want to ask.**_

_**If you go now I'll understand.**_  
_**If you stay, hey, I've got a plan.**_

_**You want to make a memory?**_  
_**You want to steal a piece of time?**_  
_**You could sing a melody to me.**_  
_**And I could write a couple of lines.**_  
_**You want to make a memory?**_

_**If you don't know if you should stay,**_  
_**If you don't say what's on your mind,**_  
_**Baby, just breathe…**_  
_**There's nowhere else tonight we should be.**_  
_**You want to make a memory?**_  
_**You want to steal a piece of time?**_  
_**You could sing a melody to me.**_  
_**And I could write a couple of lines.**_  
_**You want to make a memory?**_

_**You want to make a memory? **_  
_**(please say 'yes')**_


	22. Chapter 4F: Ron & Pansy

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER**__**: MyChemicalRomance70 **__recommended the song, __**"Superhuman Touch" by Athelete **__for Ron & Pansy this go around. It perfectly reflects Ron's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to MyChemicalRomance70 - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

_**P.S. **__**Unseenlibrarian**__ should really take up editing as a job, don't you think? She's fantastic at it!_

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter? **

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR (#6): Ron & Pansy**

Pansy was in a frisky mood, racing Ron once more to their private room. He let her win again, because it made him happy to see her laughing. "Let's see," she put her hands on her hips in a rather sexy pose, as he shut the door behind them. "That's three now you owe me."

Ron shook his head, leaning back against the door and crossing his arms. This sassy woman in front of him now was so different from the Parkinson he'd known before; he'd never have guessed that he'd once believed her to be the cold Bitch Queen of Slytherin. Where had that woman gone? "Four," he corrected her with a wide-stretching grin. "Two at the couches, one here, and one last round."

Her giggle was downright naughty and suggestive. "Well, far be it from me to argue with my astute partner," she easily conceded, and Ron found he liked her better this way – playful, unregulated, and exuberant.

"Wanna collect now?" he asked, dropping his arms and stalking her towards the bed. Every step he took forward, she took one back, her eyes glimmering with renewing desire.

She stopped suddenly and held her hands out, her card held in one of them. "Wait, wait! Cards." She waggled hers back and forth in front of him. "What's yours say?"

Ron lifted his in his left hand and read it aloud:

_**DEED: Your partner has to kiss your neck, ears, face and lips as you instruct them. **_

Pansy sighed in happiness, but her smiled slipped as she turned her own card over and read it:

_**FORFEIT: Apologize to your partner for any mean things you've ever done to them.**_

"We could be here all night on my punishment alone," she wryly commented, wincing with sincere regret. "There are a lot of things to be sorry for." She looked down at the ground, her good humor lost in an instant.

The reality of their particular situation really struck home then, and Ron realized that he'd been purposefully ignoring their past, shunting it from his mind because the sex stuff had felt too good, and honestly, he didn't want it to stop. But there was a lot between he and Pansy that couldn't be ignored - and all of it had been _bad_. In fact, prior to two and a half hours ago, he was quite sure this woman would have happily spit in his face rather than let him touch her. Now… everything had changed. Now they wanted each other with an almost desperate need.

How in the hell did that happen - especially to someone like _him_, who had never had very good luck with women?

The truth was Ron had always felt a bit like a fish out of water in bed. There'd been 'Mione, a one-off with Lavender that had become quite regular after that (despite being casual), and for a month in between last September and now, there had been Romilda Vane in his bed. In all three cases, though, he'd never felt completely free to enjoy himself sexually, as he'd always been worried about his technique and whether he was actually making the girls come (he suspected 'Mione, at least, had faked it throughout their relationship so as not to hurt his feelings). It had put him off, held him back, and had made him feel inadequate as a lover as a result.

Until Parkinson, that was.

Her reactions to his touches were honest. He _knew_ she orgasmed for him. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that she liked what he did to her. She might have been able to sham the cries of pleasure, but she couldn't fake the rush of her body's juices that had coated his lips and fingers when she came. She couldn't simulate her nipples tightening or the blood flushing through her cheeks at the moment she peaked her bliss. She couldn't falsify the way her pupils dilated, or how her clit quivered against his tongue.

Pansy didn't make him feel incompetent as a lover at all, and that did more for his self-confidence than anything else could. It also made him want – no, _need_ - to touch and taste her often, as if she were some addiction he had no will to deny.

Speaking of which…

"I'll just go ahead and give you permission to touch me anyway and anywhere you want to for the rest of the game," he stated with a leer, taking one step forward, smirking wickedly and licking his lips. "Your turn."

Parkinson's eyes glittered with growing desire. "I give you permission… to touch me anyway and anywhere you want for the rest of the game," she repeated his words to him, taking one step closer. They were now less than a foot apart, gazing at each other with hunger.

Ron stepped the final, short distance between them to plant himself directly against her. Reaching out, he cupped Pansy's jaw, tilted her head back a bit, and looked into her shimmering, dark eyes. Despite being shorter and much slighter of build (he was the second tallest student in school, coming in at three inches above six feet and Parkinson was about average for a girl, about the same height as Hermione and Lavender both – maybe five and a half feet tall), his witch had a commanding presence that made him conscious of her in a way he had never previously been aware of a woman. It was something in the way she held herself, with straight back and shoulders, a tilted chin and direct stare that could pin you in place, like his mum when she was upset, and features that were striking enough to notice from a distance, like a supermodel. She appeared strong, someone you couldn't intimidate easily, a fighter. He respected her all the more for such bite.

And yet, despite that, he was willing to give her an out, knowing from experience how she would straighten her spine and extend her claws when backed into a corner. "I don't mind switching cards, if you want."

Pansy's eyes widened in surprise (as if she hadn't expected such a bloody nice offer), but she shook her head firmly in answer to the proposition. Dropping her card, she wrapped her arms about his neck, locking her gaze onto his fervently. "No, I _want_ to act out my card. I _need_ to… before things go all the way between us… so you'll know I'm not playing you."

Despite how Hermione or Harry might believe him completely incapable of fathoming the opposite sex, Ron understood exactly what Pansy was saying in that moment. He didn't want there to be any lingering doubts or resentments when he finally had her, either; nothing to contaminate the sex, to keep it from being fun and wild. And there was absolutely no question any longer that he _was_ going to have Pansy Parkinson at some point during this game. To hear her admit it, however – to know she wanted it, too – made his chest tighten and his dick jerk awake in his pants.

He nodded in agreement to her reasoning, letting her jaw go, slipping that same hand down her back to hold her close. "Why don't we do the cards together?" He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "For each apology we give, we kiss."

Pansy's eyes lit up and the shadows of dread left her features entirely, replaced by relief and appreciation. "You'd really do that… apologize to me back?"

He nodded sincerely. Having grown up with a mother as dominating as his, Ron understood the importance of saying you were sorry to a witch if you wanted to keep your balls. Sure, he faltered all the time with 'Mione, but that's because she was… well… _'Mione_ (as soon as they'd broken up and the romantic feelings had passed on, his ex- had been mentally shifted right back into the 'buddy' category alongside Harry, and saying 'I'm sorry' to your mates was done differently than with your girl - usually without words, maybe a grunt or two and a handshake, and an offer to buy a round). He'd treated Lavender and Romilda like a love interest should, though, and frequently apologized (when the girls deemed it necessary, usually indicated by a frown or an arched brow of disapproval). "Sure. I haven't exactly been nice to you either, yeah?" He waggled his eyebrows at her teasingly, trying to put her in a better mood. "'Sides, it's free kisses!"

Playfully smacking him lightly, Pansy chuckled. "Is that all you think about? My mouth on you?"

Ron bumped his forehead into hers and stared her down with a naughty grin. "Not the _only _thing, no. Imagining your mouth all over me definitely gets me hard, but..." He rubbed his nose along hers, then down her cheek seductively, pressing his lips to her ear. "…the thought of my cock up inside you, fucking you so good that you cry out for more, making you come for me continually until you pass out from exhaustion… that's the _real_ prize, baby," he whispered, as if it were a secret just for the two of them alone.

His partner's lids fluttered closed as she groaned, reacting instantly to the desire he'd ignited just by planting that vision into her mind. Her body twined itself around his rather sinuously, one leg lifting to wrap about his, her arms snaking around his neck, her fingers thrusting into his hair. "You're making it difficult to concentrate," she sighed in a sing-song voice, letting her cheek rub cat-like against his.

"That's the plan," he murmured and chuckled, letting his hands rub circles over her bum. "Here's an even _better _idea for you: if we both forfeit, we could bang about for the next several hours, and I'll let you apologize to me that way instead. Whaddaya say?"

His witch actually considered it, biting her bottom lip, but finally shook her head. "Not yet. I really like this game. It's helping me to know the real you." She opened her eyes and stared at him with some consternation combined with a touch of wary anger. "Or is sex all you're interested in from me?"

Rubbing one scarred set of knuckles against the soft skin of Pansy's cheek, he considered her question. What _did_ he want from Parkinson? "Well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to shag you senseless," he admitted with a wry smile. "But that's not all I want, no." He wasn't sure where the words came from, but he felt his heart beating faster as he spoke them, recognizing them instantly as truth. "I… I _like _you, Parkinson. Didn't think I ever would, but there it is. You're funny and affectionate and you're _so fucking hot_. This whole thing between us has blown me away and, well… I kind of like it. You're… _gods_, you're an amazing chick." With his free hand, he pressed against the sway of her back, bringing his revived erection prominently against her abdomen to prove his words. "I'm glad now that I got you for my partner."

Pansy looked like she was on the verge of crying. "Ron…" she sobbed and buried her face into his shoulder and held on tight, her thin shoulders slightly shaking. He returned her embrace with equal pressure, nuzzled his nose into her fragrant hair, inhaling and letting her soft and sensual scent – a fragrance that reminded him of the sunshine, oak bark, honey flower and amber resin of an English forest in summer - override his mind's whirling thoughts.

He didn't know how long they stood like that, but it was nice to feel her warmth against him. Ron had never been the hugging type (mostly because the three women he'd dated previously weren't the hugging types either, and hugs from family members were boisterous and hard, not soft), but with Pansy, it didn't feel so odd. He rather liked it. He thought he wouldn't mind spending another couple of minutes just like this, in fact, but his witch had taken those moments to compose herself once more and stepped back, dropping her leg from around him. Her dark eyes glimmered wetly. "Um… so, I should go first, I guess, since it was my card."

Taking her hand, Ron led her to sit on the bed next to him where they could be more comfortable. She entwined the fingers of those clasped hands on her lap, and stroked across his rough knuckles with her free hand, tracing the patterns of his scars and still-healing cuts tenderly. "I guess I should start with the first insult I ever threw at you," she forlornly stated, sniffing delicately. "Do you remember it?"

Ron tried to think back. When was the first time he'd met Pansy Parkinson? Oh, that's right – at King's Cross Station. Harry had already arranged for his trunk to be taken by the porter and stowed, and he was awaiting his turn when a girl with dark hair and very fine robes cut in front of him, placing her trolley directly before the porter. He'd made some comment to the effect that she was splinching lines, and she'd turned to look at him with disdain and anger.

"First Year, Hogwarts Express platform. You told me that you'd been waiting in line for the porter, and that I had to have been mistaken in calling you out for a line cutter," he smirked, recalling how adorably irate (although he hadn't thought so at the time; he'd thought her a shrew then) she'd been at the accusation.

Pansy looked up at him. "I _had_ been waiting in line. He'd ignored me, however, when Potter appeared. Just dropped me flat in favor of The Boy Who Lived."

Ron blinked in surprise. "Really? I didn't know that."

Parkinson nodded. "The game won't let me lie, remember?"

"Shit," Ron breathed out heavily. "Then… fuck, I owe _you_ the apology."

His partner shrugged. "As I recall, I started the insulting first."

He thought about it. What had she said to him? "Didn't you shriek something to the effect that the hand-out line for the poor started around the corner?"

Pansy's lips twitched with amusement that she quickly stamped out by pursing them. "Something like that, yes." She shook her head. "I was really quite angry with the porter for ignoring me as he had, and then you for insinuating that I was cutting the line. I took it out on you, though, because it was easier – you weren't an adult." She looked up at him with chagrin. "I'm sorry for that cruelty."

Ron's eyebrow twitched and he tsk'd, feigning shocked disappointment. "Eleven year olds these days… Shocking little blighters!" He grinned cheesily. "Gimme a kiss and I suppose I'll forgive you, though."

His witch did let her smile break through then, and leaned forward, tilting her face to him. Her lips touched down gently on his, pulling softly. It was only a second or two, but man, it got his dick harder than rock, because he felt the sincerity behind the action. "Your turn," she nudged him in a low, teasing voice.

"Um… I apologize for calling you a bossy, blind bint that day," he traded, and pressed his mouth down on her, mimicking her performance with a quick pull of lips.

Wow, who'd thought that such small kisses would be so… nice?

Pansy bit her bottom lip as she pulled away. Seemingly embarrassed with her next thought, she looked down at the collar of his embroidered jacket and let the fingers of her free hand come up and fiddle with it, straightening, smoothing it down so it lay correctly over his bulky shoulders. "I'm sorry for saying you were an ungraceful clod in Second Year."

Ron laughed. "You've _always_ called me that."

His partner withdrew her hand and fanned herself off with it instead. "That was the _first_ time I said it to you, actually. It was in the Alley, and we were going into _Flourish & Blotts_ for Lockhart's book signing before the term began; you bumped into me as you were rushing past, remember? You nearly knocked me over."

"Oh, yeah," he remembered, his gaze focusing inwardly on the past for a second. "You were there with your mum?"

Parkinson hummed in concurrence. "When you bumped me, it had a domino effect. I knocked into her, and _she_ fell into my aunt, who nearly landed in a crate of worm-rot apples that some street vendor was selling." She kissed him again, staring at him through half-closed lids as she pulled away. "Sorry for shouting that after you as you ran past."

Ron leaned forward and took his kiss before speaking. "Sorry for bumping into you and rushing off so rudely. We were looking for Harry. He'd Floo'd into Knockturn Alley by mistake. Rough neighborhood. We were worried."

Pansy accepted the apology with a nod. He kissed her again, grinning mischievously, knowing he'd overstepped the game to sneak in a second reward. "Cheater," she accused gently, smiling as well.

He shrugged. "You'll live."

His partner leaned back in the bed, facing the ceiling. Ron followed her down, lying next to her on his side, leaning up on an elbow to see her better. She was concentrating again, biting her lower lip. "I'm sorry for the incident in the storage cupboard during Double Potions in Third Year. You know, when we got locked in."

Ron considered that memory. "Are you sorry for insulting me or for slapping me that time? Or for getting us locked in there in the first place?"

She turned her head and looked at him earnestly. "All of the above."

"Then, I'm sorry for dumping the whole bottle of Glop of Pixie Sperm all over your head for hauling off on me," he yielded. Internally, he congratulated himself for saying that with a straight face.

Pansy scrunched up like she'd bitten into sour lemons. "I still don't see how something so small can produce something so foul-smelling," she rhetorically stated, then poked him in the chest. "Well, it serves you right that you had to breathe the fumes with me until Snape let us out. What were you _thinking,_ opening such nasty tripe in an enclosed space?"

Ron shrugged, also scrunching up his brow and cheeks in a grimace. "I was thirteen and thought it would be a laugh. I had no idea it would stink so bad." He made a defensive gesture with his free hand. "Hey, it's not like they tell you such things in Third Year Potions textbooks. And besides, who'd milk the wee folk for their sperm? It'd have to be some dodgy head case, because the idea is totally mental to start. Can you imagine trying to wank them off? How would you accomplish that even? They're so small!"

Parkinson burst into hysterics, her face glowing with fuchsia merriment. "Maybe… they buy 'em… a subscription to… _WeeWitch_," she gushed while wiping away tears from the corners of her eyes. "And give them… a _shot_ glass."

Ron chortled. "Cute. Naked pixies whacking off tiny erections to little, blue centerfolds… I think my mind is permanently fried now."

"What do you mean _now_?" his girl mocked, grinning like that bloody cat from _Alice in Wonderland_. "You've always been brain-damaged, Weasley."

"Cheeky skirt," he accused, shaking his head with jest. His hand shot out and grabbed a hold of her left boob and honked it twice. He feigned innocence. "Oh, I'm _so sorry_, Miss, but you see, my cooked skull can't seem to manage my limbs anymore." He started massaging her breast. "I _hate_ when this happens. This here's a reflex impulse - completely uncontrollable."

Pansy giggled, but as the seconds ticked by, her smile fell once more and she grew strangely quiet, her eyes narrowing in thought. Such concentration made an adorable dent in her forehead, but caused his hand to stop in its fun for the moment, unsure as to whether such groping would be further tolerated. "You know… speaking of spontaneous response," she stated, making a cute moue with her lips. "Now that I reflect on it, I might have done that on purpose. Locked us in that day, I mean. Unconsciously, of course."

Bewildered by such a contradictory statement, Ron gave her a skeptical expression. "That doesn't make a lick of sense, woman. How can you do something intentionally, but without meaning to?"

Shaking her head and snuffing in amusement, Pansy snickered under her breath. "I mean, I had hold of the handle and was leaving, but you said something and I just _had_ to turn back and retort. I let go of the door. I _knew_ it locked from the outside, so why did I do that? I'm not usually prone to such… thoughtlessness."

"Ah, gotcha." He chuckled, waggling his eyebrows, trying to regain some of the earlier silliness. "Maybe because I'm mint at firing you off?"

Parkinson caved with a snigger. "Yes, you are at that." Leaning up, and using her free hand to tug him down with pressure on his jacket, she snogged him a good one, slipping her tongue into the mix, lapping against and between his lips wantonly and evocatively. "You _definitely_ fire me off, Mr. Weasley."

He sighed in longing. "Bloody hell, woman, I'm as hard as a rock from just that! Look what you do to me." He grabbed her hand off the lapel of his coat and yanked it down to feel the bulge between his legs. His erection was very prominent.

Recognizing his desire for her, Pansy seriously contemplated him for a few heartbeats in silence, before saying something that quite honestly floored him. "We _are_ like Malfoy and Granger, aren't we? How weird."

Ron leaned up off his hand, raising himself higher on his elbow. "Whaddaya mean?"

His partner's fingers began rubbing his cock gently, absently. He didn't dare say anything to make her stop, enjoying her stroking too much, despite his curiosity. "I mean, it's obvious now that I look at it. Just like them, we've always antagonized each other. I've been rather obsessed with it, honestly. I don't feel the need to go out of my way to insult Potter, or even Granger, like I do you. You're… special."

Scoffing in amusement, he helped her hand along by guiding it all up and down his length, spreading his top leg wide open, letting the knee bend upright. "Special enough to insult? That's kinda wack."

His partner shook that dark chestnut hair of hers back and forth, swishing it rather attractively from side to side, all the while never pausing in her caressing of his steel-hard nine iron. "No, special enough to pay attention to you, and to want you to pay attention to me back – even if that awareness was negative." She tilted her head, her gaze traveling over his face, assessing it carefully. "It was… like foreplay, or something. I got off on yanking your chain as often as possible."

The imagery combined with her hand's action was too much. Pushing her hand down onto the mattress, Ron pounced, pressing Pansy back into the bed, straddling her with his heavier form. "I get off on you yanking my chain as well," he grinned slyly, running fingers through that silky, shiny hair of hers. "So… you're saying that we really were attracted to each other all this time?"

His partner shrugged daintily and hummed in agreement. "Rich girl, poor boy. Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Wrong side of the tracks for both of us." She grinned impishly. "It was fated that we'd want to fuck."

Inside his pants, Ron's cock was now swelling to proportions that were painful. "Say that last part again," he dared her, leaning forward until their lips were barely touching.

Pansy's lids lowered with sultry languidness as she stared up at him. Licking her painted lips, she gave him a wicked smirk. "It was fated that I'd want to take your hard, tasty cock into my desperate mouth, Ron, and that you'd want to lick my wet, begging pussy, and that we'd want to fuck sweetly and strong, and that after, you'd want to kiss me until I died."

His heart practically stopped at her lurid descriptions. Swallowing hard, Ron felt an unnamed emotion well up inside, pulsing its way up his throat and into his mouth. "_Fuck_, baby, say you want us to do that _right now_ or I'm gonna pop."

Small fingers traced a line over his hip, across his waistband, and dipped to trace his hardened length under his tight trousers again. "Oh, _yes_, I want us to tear each other's clothes off and fuck each other into the mattress… but not yet. If we do, this game ends for both of us. You know we'll have to forfeit, because I don't think once will be enough for either of us. It certainly won't be for _me_. I'll want you for hours, Ron. I'm not exaggerating, and I know a spell that will give us that. Daphne taught it to me." She leaned up to kiss him just once as her hand stroked over his sack and one finger trailed naughtily over that spot right underneath that made him jerk with need. "There's still so much we can do with the cards – things we can explore about each other. I want to try it all with you. I want to tie you up and feed you, I want you to play with me with toys, I want to massage you and have you massage me, I want you to spank me nicely, and I want to bathe with you… I want us to _play_ and enjoy this time together. I want us to talk and get to know each other better so that when we _do_ have sex, it'll be _so good_, because we'll know what the other likes." She looked up at him sincerely. "If we rush it, we'll miss all of that."

Shit… this all sounded like a dream come true for a bloke: a beautiful witch wanted him to pleasure her fully, and to give it right back to him. Talk about something right out of the story pages of _PlayWitch!_ "Right. You're abso-_fucking_-lutely right, baby," he agreed, swallowing back his animalistic needs. "I want all of that, too."

She teased him only a moment or two more with those sinful fingers of hers, before moving her hand away. Underneath him, she stretched in a very kittenish manner, her mood switching instantaneously to that of the rascal. "Then you go again," she smartly challenged, being sure she thrust her breasts into his chest with a provocative arch of her back. "I rather like hearing you apologize to me, my sexy wizard."

Sighing with partial disappointment, partial pain, Ron sat up on his knees and adjusted his "package" purposefully in front of her, sticking his hand down his pants and moving his stiff prick to a more comfortable position. Parkinson's eyes, he noted, followed his every move like a snake entranced by a flute player. She even stuck her pink tongue out and wetted her lips, and in her eyes, he saw the promise of more sucking of his jolly stick in the very near future.

He moved off of her, laying back into the same position at her side as he'd been earlier, trying to calm his racing blood. He ached clear through to his bollocks. It was time to get back in the game, which would serve as a good distraction from his thoughts of soaping up Pansy's breasts… "Okay, so, uh… my turn. Right. I'm sorry for…" He thought about his history with this girl again, digging for an appropriate instance where they'd clashed. "Ah, I know: for saying you and your dress looked ugly at the Yule Ball in Fourth Year."

Pansy frowned. "You mean on the staircase?"

He nodded, still squirming, having trouble finding a "cozy spot" in his pants. He was _throbbing _with need. "Yeah, remember Cedric called Harry away, and you were at the top of the landing on the Second Floor – what were you doing there anyway? I went on up to get back to the dorms without him, and we passed each other on the stairs and you said…"

"'Evening, Weasley. I see your date abandoned you. Why am I not surprised?'" she quoted verbatim. "I went to use the loo. Second Floor girl's bath is the closest to the Entrance Hall."

"Oh, well, yeah," he understood finally. "And I said in reply…"

"'You're looking particularly ugly tonight, Parkinson. With all of dad's money, you couldn't find a dress to flatter?'" she remembered, snuffing now at the silliness of that exchange.

Ron felt the blush creep up his cheeks. "Uh, yeah. Wow, you have a good memory."

She snickered, claiming her kiss. "I'm not in the top ten of the class for nothing, you know."

His jaw hit the mattress. "Wha…? Seriously?" Now, Ron realized that sentiment had come out all wrong – the sounding shocked part, specifically – but it was his gut reaction and he didn't curb it in time. Wincing, he hoped she wouldn't slap him into next week.

Pansy snorted, looking particularly proud of herself. "I'm no Granger, Malfoy, Greengrass or MacMillan – all of whom seem to have an almost freak ability to remember the tiniest facts - but I've always been able to hold my own at homework and tests. I like to read and study."

Pushing up on his elbow, he leaned over Slytherin's Queen Bee, incredulity plastered to his features. "I didn't know that!"

His partner's dark, delicate eyebrow arched at him with amusement. "Yes, you did," she countered, walking her fingers up his arm and back down again, apparently just for the pleasure of touching him. "Think back - how many times have we had an altercation while I was reading?"

Frowning, Ron sat up, leaning an arm on one bent knee. How many times had they sniped at each other over the years? Too many to count (as Pansy had rightly said, they could be there all night apologizing to each other). As he considered it now, though, he realized she was right. He frequently saw her in the library, and would pass by with a snide comment before moving on to find 'Mione. She had a favorite window perch in the Charms corridor where she'd sometimes sit to look out at the view… and she'd always be reading, wouldn't she? And those times during the late spring when he'd catch her and her Slytherin girl friends sunbathing or picnicking on blankets outside in the grassy area near the Quidditch Pitch… she always had a book in her hand or tucked under her arm, didn't she? Why hadn't he put it together before?

"So, what do you like to read?" he asked, realizing he'd terribly misjudged her for years (thinking her more concerned with fashion and gossip and making people miserable than engaging in more intelligent pursuits, and feeling rather foolish about that presumption). "What's your favorite subject?"

Pansy didn't answer immediately, and he turned his head to find out why. She was biting her lip again, and her blush ran from her neck to her forehead. "You'll laugh at me."

Maybe the old Ron might have, yeah, but the Ron that was here with her now… no. He didn't believe he had it in him anymore to laugh at her expense. Twisting about and situating himself over her, straddling her body, he petted her soft cheeks with his fingers. "Promise I won't," he swore sincerely, capturing her gaze. "I'll even tell you mine."

His partner gave him an assessing look. "You love Quidditch," she stated rather perceptively. "You hate Potions and Divination, and could give or take the rest with equal indifference."

Surprised by her rather accurate assessment of his character, Ron grinned slyly. "Guess which of those tolerable subjects I like best, though."

Tilting her head, her short, dark hair fanning over the white coverlet as a result, his girl mulled it over for half a minute more. "Care of Magical Creatures."

He grinned, silently acknowledging her answer with a curt nod. "Very good. And _you _like Herbology best, Potions second."

A soft gasp was torn from her chest and she looked at him with flummoxed surprise. "How… how did you know?"

He beamed down at her lightheartedly. "Well, that's easy, innit? You're in Advanced Herbology, and I heard what Snape said to you this week in your Advanced Potions interview – you've got a knack for the subject. I'm betting your N.E.W.T.s for those subjects were the easiest, huh?"

"Oh," she replied in wonder, seeming at a loss for words. "Yeah. I… I think I did well with them. We'll find out Monday or Tuesday, right?"

He nodded. "So, how'd you know about me and C.M.C.?"

Shrugging again, she looked at him as if it were obvious. "You helped your brother out during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, packing the dragons up after the First Task. Looked like you enjoyed it."

"Yeah, I did, but… how'd you know?" he asked with some suspicion. "Were you spying on me?"

Pansy giggled and blushed. "Actually, I was spying on your brother. We all were – every girl in our year from Slytherin, half the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and more than a few Gryffindors."

"Gah!" Ron huffed in righteous indignation and flipped over onto his back again, throwing his arms to the air. "Why is it that every woman digs on Charlie? I just don't get it!"

Pansy sat up on her elbows, chortling merrily. "It's the scars." She reached for his hand, flipping herself around, this time straddling him and pulled his hand up between them. Kissing and licking his Quidditch-battered knuckles, she playfully wiggled herself right over his erection. "We chicks dig scars, Ron. Didn't you know?" She sucked one finger into her mouth rather suggestively, and he felt a bolt of electricity shoot straight down his spine and into his cock. Groaning, he pressed his hips upwards in time to her slow humping.

"I've got scars," he smiled coyly. "Wanna see?"

"I've already seen," his partner reminded him in a sinfully seductive voice, dragging her center slowly over him and back down. "I'm sure I'll see again, too."

"Count on it," Ron growled, taking his hand from hers, grabbing her hips and thrusting up against her roughly.

Pansy squealed in delight. Her face lit up like the sun, her smile so brilliant and true it almost hurt to look upon it. Ron's heart pounded in his chest in counterpoint. He rubbed their bodies together for several minutes, watching her face transform into lustful desperation. "Damn, baby, you make it hard for a man to keep his wits." He let his hot hands roam up and down her thighs, pushing up her dress. He wanted at her!

"Stop, stop," she breathlessly surrendered, trying to be serious, but failing miserably as she kept giggling. "We need to finish this before time's up."

With a deep sigh, Ron stopped bouncing his girl up and down on his lap (much to his profound disappointment), but he did settle her on top of his dick firmly, anchoring her in place with a grip he maintained on her hips. This he would not give up – the sensation of her sweet spot nestling against his through her knickers and his slacks. It was too good a feeling. "All right then, keep apologizing, wench, before I decide to forget myself and throw you down to shag you rotten." He couched the demand with an arrogant smirk, and was tapped lightly on the cheek for his brazen attitude.

"Impatient git," Parkinson cheeked fondly, but in the next second, her smile faded and she became rather solemn. "Okay, I've got another one. I'm sorry for the time in Fifth Year that I screamed at you for the 'owl incident.' Remember that?"

Reluctantly, he nodded, feeling heat crawl up his cheeks at the memory, but unable to keep himself from snickering. Oh, man… The 'owl incident.' Damn, he should have known that would come up at some point. Yeah, that had been one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.

They'd gotten into a blazing row at the Owlery when they'd accidentally bumped into each other (her leaving, him coming in), and in a fit of immaturity, he'd grabbed up the package in Pansy's hands, opened it and taunted her once he caught a gander of what was inside. Holding her specialty, catalogue-ordered thong knickers above her head and out of her reach, making her jump for them, had been (at the time) rather amusing. How was he supposed to know that Malfoy's Eagle Owl would find the enticement of green satin and lace to be an irresistible snack item?

Trying not to laugh as well, Parkinson distracted herself by watching her hands, which were once again smoothing his jacket, removing specks of imaginary lint. Apparently, that was a nervous habit of hers. "Mum was angry with me when she found out I'd been ordering sexy lingerie through the post at only fifteen, but that was nothing to her fury over having to go apologize to Lady Malfoy for causing her owl's death as a result of it choking on the bloody things."

Unable to stop himself, imagining the look on any of the Malfoys' faces when they'd been told the news, Ron burst into cackling laughter. Tears, literally, poured from his eyes and he howled in amusement. Pansy swatted him again. "Stop," she chastised sternly (although her grin kept the reprimand from being truly effective). "I lost a perfectly good pair of knickers that cost me my month's allowance, and the ability to keep secretly ordering the things because of you, you great prat!"

Grabbing ahold of her and pulling her down, he rolled her onto her back and loomed over her, continuing to bawl with hysterical glee into her shoulder. Pansy tsk'd in annoyance… which only made him crack up into another round of laughter. Eventually, she joined him in the hilarity of the situation.

"Bloody bird," she chortled. "Although, I guess suffocation by panties isn't a bad way to go."

Ron had never laughed so hard or so long in his life. If he hadn't been kneeling on a mattress already, he'd have been falling down and pissing his shorts. "Holy… hells…" he managed to gasp between pants for air. "We've done some… crazy shite... together, yeah?"

"I suppose," his woman snickered, seductively sliding her legs up the outside of his to wrap around his waist. "I'd like to do even more, though."

Ron's erection shot back to life, and the sudden crowding in his boxers made him groan. Unable to prevent himself, he tipped forward and hotly slid his lips over hers in a kiss designed to ignite them both. With a low growl in his throat, he kissed her until she was breathless and straining against him. Only then did he pull away.

They stared at each other in silence, and Ron realized right then and there that he wanted Pansy – not just for the sex (although that was tits up, too), but because she was a great catch. "You're so beautiful, so smart, so much fun, so _fucking_ _sexy_… baby, you're _it_," he heard himself spouting off like some lovesick puppy, unable to stop the words tumbling from his mouth, drawn directly from the depths of his heart and mind. "I'm sorry I purposefully splashed you with rain earlier this year when I ran past you and hit a puddle, and for accidentally blowing up your cauldron in Second Year Potions, and for intentionally slipping a ground-up Puking Pastille into your soup last year when you were distracted…"

Pansy's jaw opened wide. "That was you? Why, you little snake!"

He kissed her three times for those three confessions, letting his lips buzz over hers as he pulled away gently. "And I'm sorry for always hurting your feelings – especially that day in the Transfiguration corridor earlier this week." He brushed her bangs to the side of her forehead softly. "I didn't know you were there, honest. And what I said…"

His witch finally shut him down with fingertips over his lips. "I pushed that fight. _I'm_ sorry for that. For all of it, Ron. For seven years of cruel barbs, and slaps and shoves and getting you into trouble with teachers… I'm sorry." Her hand lightly brushed across his cheek, and he could feel the smoothness of her touch rub away all of the bad feelings between them. Unexpected tears slipped down her cheeks to fall into her hairline. "Really sorry."

Drawing him towards her with pressure against the back of his head, Pansy kissed him with a sweetness that melted Ron down to his bones. Their tongues and lips lingered over each other's, sampling with leisurely measure, prolonging pleasure, nurturing a connection that he could feel slowly liquefying itself into his skin, through his muscles, and into his heart.

Merlin help him, he was falling for Pansy Parkinson.

He let himself mull over that thought as they continued to savor each other's mouths, as her fingers continued to stroke the back of his neck, and as he caressed her thick, straight hair off her face and around the back of her ear with trembling fingers.

When the chimes rang out moments later, neither one was prepared to immediately break up their exploring. That took another five minutes-worth of soul-stealing kisses before it was possible to accomplish.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Superhuman Touch" by Athelete. Lyrics are as follows…**

_**I'm on fire.**_  
_**Nothing's gonna hold me back.**_  
_**Endless blue sky,**_  
_**And a pocketful of tricks to try…**_  
_**You pick a color and I sing it for you.**_  
_**I know you feel the same way.**_  
_**Say, Say, Say you feel the same way.**_

_**Your fingertips are like a superhuman touch.**_  
_**Can't get enough of this electric love.**_  
_**Burning the sun with just a wave of your hand.**_

_**Sparks flying out in every direction,**_  
_**There's more of this to come.**_  
_**I think it must be heaven…**_  
_**Burning the sun with just a wave of your hand.**_

_**I'm on fire.**_  
_**Golden echoes upon my face.**_  
_**Tell those dreamers **_  
_**they can dream up all they like in this place…**_  
_**You pick a color and I sing it for you.**_  
_**I know you feel the same way.**_  
_**Say, Say, Say you feel the same way.**_

_**Your fingertips are like a superhuman touch.**_  
_**Can't get enough of this electric love.**_  
_**Burning the sun with just a wave of your hand.**_

_**Sparks flying out in every direction,**_  
_**There's more of this to come.**_  
_**I think it must be heaven…**_  
_**Burning the sun with just a wave of your hand.**_

_**Just one day like this will keep me going on…**_  
_**Tender kisses will keep me going on…**_

_**Your fingertips are like a superhuman touch.**_  
_**Can't get enough of this electric love.**_  
_**Burning the sun with just a wave of your hand.**_

_**Sparks flying out in every direction,**_  
_**There's more of this to come.**_  
_**I think it must be heaven…**_  
_**Burning the sun with just a wave of your hand.**_

_**Seems like hell has broken loose;**_  
_**It couldn't be more beautiful.**_  
_**I just want to burn the sun with you.**_

_**Must be God to inspire the greatest minds in all of power…**_  
_**I just want to burn the sun with you,**_  
_**With just a wave of your hand.**_


	23. Chapter 5: The 4th Question

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER**__**: "MemTheGreat" **__recommended the song, __**"Love, Sex and Magic" by Ciara and Justin Timberlake **__for this go around. So, this chapter is dedicated to MemTheGreat - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

_**P.S. **__**Unseenlibrarian**__ gives you yet another fantastic beta job here, folks! Please remember to thank her in your reviews!_

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter? **

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_**CHAPTER FIVE: THE 4th QUESTION**_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland**_

_**Room of Requirement**_

_**Saturday, June 13, 1998 (11:00 pm)**_

By the time Draco and his partner made it back to the couches in the main area, two couples were already out there waiting – Finnegan and Brown, and Pansy with the Weasel.

The Irish and his blonde bombshell were holding hands, sitting next to each other on the sofa, turned slightly towards each other, her head resting on his shoulder. How… darling. He almost lost his dinner right there.

As for Pans… she and her redheaded beau were leaning against the back of the furniture on Slytherin's side, her bum perched on the top of the sofa, Ron holding her with arms entwined about her waist. They were talking quietly, staring into each other's eyes, and Draco stopped cold, floored by the emotion so nakedly displayed across his ex-girlfriend's features. He'd never seen Parkinson so sincerely happy or unrestrained with a man before – and he'd been privy to more than one public display by her with a guy over the years. The smile on her lips, the blush on her cheeks, the loving way her fingers lightly caressed Ronald Weasley's arms, shoulders and throat were all indicative of one thing: massive infatuation. There was no feint in her demeanor, either, to make him think that she might be faking.

"Can't believe it either, huh?" Granger's voice at his right shoulder brought him around. "It seems odd to me, too. I mean, they were so openly hateful of each other before the first action round. It's the same with Ginny and your friend, Zabini, and even Lavender with Seamus. They all had bad histories that were… well… weirdly _forgotten_ as soon as sex came into the equation."

Draco considered how best to reply to turn the strange circumstances into some sort of personal advantage, per typical Slytherin _modus operandi_. Tilting his head, he looked down from his greater height into the eyes of his partner. "Us, too."

Two words, so very powerful. They got the expected response.

Granger blushed prettily, her eyes searching his face for hidden clues about his feelings. Draco was careful to craft his mask to prevent too far a probe, however. "So, your opinion has changed now?"

Slowly, carefully, he lifted a hand and stroked his fingertips lightly down her left cheek. "Now, I think it's safe to say the transformation is for the better – for all of us. Don't you agree?"

Dark bronze stared into his very heart, measuring, calculating in seconds whether to believe him or not. "I think it's _nice_, yes. But definitely… peculiar."

Slipping his hand down to hers to entwine them together, he gently guided her to his side and walked them about the room, away from the seating area, talking to her as they went so as to distract her from their touching. "What's got you so suspicious? Don't you think it's possible for physical intimacy to alter the nature of a relationship?"

His ploy worked; his witch was too caught up in contemplating and discussing the topic to pay much attention to her hand clasped in his, to his long fingers rubbing seductively over hers. "Yes, it's possible, of course, and the game certainly gives such an opportunity to create cozy moments between partners. I _have_ read the cards for my side, after all. But, it's almost like…" She floundered for the answer, which seemed to remain just out of her reach. Shaking her head in frustration, her brow lowered in concern. "It just feels queer. Not a natural development."

As they reached the stone-masonry of the back wall, they made their way around it, following the angles. "You suspect the magic of the cards is somehow influencing us to feel stronger… affection… for each other than would be normal?" he plucked the thought seamlessly from her supposition.

Halting her steps, bringing him to a stop at her side as well, Hermione glanced over at the table between the two couches on the other side of the room and stared at the piles of cards lying unobtrusively on the surface. Watching her profile carefully, he could practically read the thoughts flittering through her brain as they reflected in her eyes. She was most definitely concerned, although Draco could not understand why. "We know the cards are forcing us to tell the truth and to perform the actions," she murmured in a low voice so they wouldn't be overheard, even with the obvious distance between them and the others. "What else are they forcing upon us? And how?" She glanced up at him from beneath painted lashes. "Where did you get this particular set?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably. "From some place I know you'll wholly disapprove," he stated frankly, knowing her character.

She narrowed her eyes in deliberation. "Knockturn Alley. _Borgin & Burkes_?"

Draco shook his head. "Correct on the general location, wrong about the storefront. They came from a few doors down, actually."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Don't tell me you got them from Madam Aset?"

Surprise flashed through him. "Been patronizing the seedier parts of town, have we?" he snickered, astonished to discover his bookworm wasn't quite as innocent as he'd always assumed. "And how would you know about a Sex-Witch Shoppe, hmmm?"

"How would _you_?" she countered, slightly miffed at him (whether for knowing about the Sex-Witch or buying a questionable deck of magical cards, Draco couldn't rightly tell), and they continued walking, heading towards the couches now.

Leaning his mouth towards her ear as they walked, he whispered naughtily to her. "The owner taught me everything I know."

Jerking back from him as if slapped, she stopped again and stared at him with incredulity. "You paid for sex with a known whore?"

It was Draco's turn to be annoyed now. "First of all, it's a right-of-passage for all pureblood men of my status to be broken in by a Sex-Witch who's been properly trained and certified by the Ministry." At the look of horror on her face, he tsk'd at her naivety. "I told you that the titled wizarding elite follow ancient customs that the rest of the world can't fathom. That one's a hold-over. That I lost my virginity outside that convention and earlier than expected – and to a half-blood, regardless of her ties to the Zabinis - infuriated my father to no end… which was the point then, because I was angry at him for the lifetime of brainwashing he'd heaped upon me." He tugged her a little harshly so that she was forced back into his close quarters, their faces only inches apart. "You can congratulate yourself for unwittingly empowering that rebellious streak within me, by the way, since I'd only started thinking that way after the Yule Ball just days before."

Having caught Granger flat-footed (and as open-mouthed as a fish out of water) was a major triumph for sure, but her candidly registered shock still wasn't enough to assuage Draco's rising temper now that he was on a roll. He barreled onward, intent on calling her out for the doffing hypocrite she was at that moment. "Second, you're smarter than to call a practitioner of the craft of intimacy something as cheap and common as a 'whore,' princess. As well-read as you are, you should know by now that a Sex-Witch or Warlock can't help what they are anymore than you can help being a witch. They're born with the power to bring pleasure to others, much as you're innately good at Charms." He sniffed in disdain, letting her hand go, stepping away. "I'd have thought someone like you, who'd been on the receiving end of prejudice more than once, would know better than to judge others for the parameters of their birth."

Granger looked stricken suddenly, as if the thought had never occurred to her that she was, in fact, being an unmitigated, two-faced snob regarding this subject. He fired his point home with a final shot. "And for your information, Ms. Sabrina is _not _a whore. She's actually quite a lovely and refined lady who cares for her patrons. It was she who taught me how to respect a woman in bed - how to show her the proper attention and how to pleasure her perfectly every time." He smirked rather arrogantly down at his partner. "Something you're going to benefit from _very_ generously as the game progresses, princess, so I wouldn't make too much of a fuss about my visitations with her if I were you."

He walked away then, giving Gryffindor's sovereign space and time to think about what he'd said. To his amazement, after only a few steps, he felt her hand grab his, and tug him to a definitive stop. He turned to give his partner his full attention, aware (now that he'd spied the group in its entirety across the room, waiting upon them) of the eyes watching their lackluster performance. They hadn't even raised their voices this time! He was sure that was disappointing to some of them.

"You're right. I was judging without considering all of the facts," Hermione admitted, bending to the logic, appearing properly censured by shame. "I apologize if I've insulted you or your… friend. Or your… traditions."

Well, this had to be a first: Granger was apologizing to him, admitting she was wrong about something. He wanted to shout, "Quick, someone take a picture so it can't be denied later!" but thought that would probably be a really immature thing to do given the circumstances. That meant there was only one acceptable recourse left to him…

"You're forgiven, Granger. Let's just get back to the game."

She didn't let go of his hand though, even as he made to turn and go. Instead, she stepped in closer and held him fast, and for an instant (just a tiny one), he thought perhaps she was moving in to kiss him in apology as well. His internal animal wagged its tail at the thought.

"I'm still concerned about the cards and their influence, though," she whispered, eyes darting over his shoulder to look at the entire cast of players. "What if it's dark magic of some kind? Did your Ms. Aset tell you anything at all about them, or perhaps hint at anything in passing?"

Draco's beast calmed on all fronts as he pondered the question and reviewed the facts within his command. "She made it clear that the game belonged to a friend of hers, and that there's a charm already on it that will send it back to her automatically once the game is finished."

"How did you find out about the game to begin with?" his partner pressed, clearly unwilling to let this go for now. "Did she show it to you when you went to… _visit_… her? Or was it advertised for sale and you went to procure it that way?"

Now he found himself in a quandary with no good options for getting out - which also put him in the position of becoming a potential victim of his own conniving plot. On the one hand, if he told Granger that he'd been planning to seduce her well in advance of tonight, and that he'd acquired this game solely for _that purpose_ (once Sabrina had mentioned it to him, of course), Hermione would most likely quit the game permanently, thinking him a smidge obsessed. On the other hand, his partner would mostly likely hound the living hell out of him for answers throughout the rest of the game, turning over and over every one of his words in that amazing brain of hers until she puzzled the whole thing out on her own – which would then frag her off, because she'd know he'd hidden the truth from her from the start.

If there was one thing he had discovered about Hermione Granger over the last three years, it was that she despised liars and schemers. Shame, really, otherwise they'd have got on famously long ago.

Bloody Gryffindor principles!

Sighing in frustration, knowing he'd have to work this situation over delicately so that he wouldn't be necessarily lying, but so that he wouldn't give his hand away too soon either, he turned his back to the group and spoke low, for her ears only. "I wanted to try the game out after Ms. Sabrina described it to me over tea one afternoon," he stated, then rolled his eyes at her look of doubt regarding the last part of his statement. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but _yes_, Granger, it's not always about sex. I went only for a social visit that time." Which was absolutely true; so far, he hadn't lied a bit. He'd _omitted_, but not lied. What good would it serve if he explained that he'd specifically gone to Sabrina that day for her advice on love games so he could ensnare this infuriatingly nosey witch standing before him now and claim her for his own, if only just once? "She gave me the basic rundown on the rules then, and explained that the game belonged to her friend and she could acquire it for me and have it sent to me here. The only other thing she said was that the cards have been around for over two hundred years, and that they originally belonged to some suicidal courtesan in a Masked Gentleman's establishment."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Suicidal?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "Apparently." Not that it mattered. What did a bint who lived two centuries ago have to do with the price of tea in India, anyway? "The game's been passed down in Ms. Sabrina's friend's family ever since. They're something of an heirloom, as I understand it."

Granger's faced did that _thing_ it was wont to do when she was turning an enigma around in her head – it scrunched up and made her look like a garden gnome. Politely, Draco coughed behind his hand to hide a laugh. "If they're that important," she wondered aloud, "why loan them out to just anybody, then? I mean, _I_ wouldn't lend something that sentimental out to _you_."

He gave her an irked frown. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

She shook her head. "No, you misunderstand. I mean, what are you to Ms. Aset aside from just another client?"

Now he was becoming personally offended. Raising an eyebrow, he scowled at his witch. "You say that like I'm some forgettable street urchin with cheap coin whom she tolerates darkening her doorstep."

Wisely, Granger did not rise to the bait. Instead, she gave him a flat stare. "Oh, do stop fooling around, Malfoy. You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. You're not the Sex-Witch's relation in any fashion, nor did you indicate that you knew or were on solid speaking terms with her friend, so why on Earth would she and her friend deign to loan out a priceless family treasure to a mere acquaintance, business or otherwise? It makes absolutely no sense."

His hackles were rising. "Maybe because I'm a fantastic fuck," he crudely sniped.

One delicate, dark brown eyebrow twitched coolly. "We'll see," was all his partner replied.

With her own powerful two-word sentence, it was as if Hermione had flipped a switch suddenly, and Draco felt rather pleased that she'd conceded to the idea that he would shag her rotten at some point in the next twenty-some-odd hours, and he forgot all about the mood of doom that had been hovering like a storm bank over them both. He threw her a sly smirk. "Come on, Granger," he coerced, taking her hand again gently and tucking it into his arm as if he were escorting her to a formal occasion, "You can burn out your brain on your own time. Right now, everyone's waiting for us."

That jarred her right out of her internalized space and, guiltily, she looked over at the seating area and noted the other couples all waiting patiently for them to finish their spat. "Oh, foot!" she hissed.

Draco grinned, deciding to change the topic to cheer her up. He'd like where they'd left things this last round, and was hoping for more of a breakthrough this time. "Speaking of… perhaps this time you'll have to massage _my_ feet." He sighed in melodramatic teasing. "Ahhh, you on your knees before me, washing my toes and rubbing them sensuously… I could really come to like that."

His princess chuckled. "I will _never_ bend a knee to you, Draco Malfoy."

"We'll see," he arrogantly smirked. "You might just find you'll enjoy the eye-level view in that position."

He'd timed that shot to purposefully coincide with them reaching the sphere of the sofas, and so his partner had been unable to reply, knowing the others would hear. Instead, she sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He let her go so she could take her place, but only after he'd pressed a rather chivalric kiss to the back of her knuckles, making her blush as rosy-crimson as a Samhain bonfire.

"Sorry for the delay everyone," Granger announced, making their excuses when Draco felt none were necessary. He said nothing, however, resuming his seat and crossing his legs, getting comfortable. It was Potter's turn to conduct this round, and he indicated with a nod to his contemporary that he was ready to begin once his partner resumed her spot across the way.

Potter clapped his hands together and rubbed them, as happy as a gay lark. "Right, so I hope everyone had a nice time last round. And… you're up, Blaise," he indicated the pile of green cards on the table.

Zabini rolled his eyes at the man's chirpy optimism, and, reaching forward, grabbed the top card of the _Interrogations_ pile and read it aloud: "If you had to count how often you wanked in an average week, what would that number be today?"

No one said anything, although there was some shifting immediately to Blaise's left. Tracey was clearly uncomfortable with answering the question (like that was any surprise). "Sorry," she apologized curtly to everyone and quickly grabbed a _Forfeits_ card, her face blooming with twin cherries on each cheek. Draco was beginning to suspect that perhaps Davis was either incredibly shy, or an outright liar about her experience. Which would suck for her if she was still a virgin and Potter got one of Draco's _Forfeits_ or _Deeds_ cards, because that meant that the girl was good and screwed, literally. However, since Pans had been the one to say her roommate could play in the first place, and he'd entrusted the recruitment of the Slytherin women to Parkinson, he really had no say in the matter. Besides, it was too late now to do anything about it.

It was his turn now.

Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the ceiling. "Let's see here…" he playfully stalled, knowing Granger was probably hanging on his every word, although she'd most likely be pretending not to be in the least bit interested. "How many times on average a week do I stroke it? Hmmm…." He looked about. "Whose card was this anyway? I need clarification on something."

It was no surprise when Weasley grinned. "Guilty as charged."

"Figures," Draco snarked. "Okay, so are you talking about wanking to completion, or just touching yourself for pleasure, but maybe not coming?"

The redheaded git snorted and shook his head. "Who the hell strokes their dick but doesn't come?"

Draco gave him a rather amused smirk. "You mean to tell me that you've never whipped it out and touched yourself in class just to see if you could get away with it?"

Finnegan started laughing then and slapped his knee. "Holy shite, I thought I was the only one ta do that."

All right, the Irish just went up a tiny notch in Draco's esteem for admitting to something that he knew most of the guys had done at one time or another throughout their Hogwarts career.

Theo snickered and looked across at the Weasel, who was decidedly uncomfortable. "Admit it, you've done it. Hell, I've done it." He grinned without shame. "Almost got caught by Snape stroking the ol' pickle in Fifth Year."

"That would have been quite the disaster," Granger piped in, an amused giggle escaping her lips. "Can you imagine what the detention would have been?"

There were a few shared chuckles around the circle.

"I have no compunction about admitting to such pleasurable activities while in the classroom for instruction," Daphne stated rather calmly, lifting her glasses from her nose, breathing on the lenses and rubbing them with the edge of Blaise's shirt tail. "I have twice indulged in such diversions while in Muggle Studies, twice in Divination, and once in Defense Against The Dark Arts."

Even Draco's jaw dropped at that. Everyone stared at Greengrass like she'd just grown another head.

"Fuck. Me," Theo breathed out, jumped out of his seat and knelt before his partner, his face awed. "I think I'm officially in love with you, My Queen."

Replacing her rather sensible yet fashionable spectacles upon the bridge of her nose, Daphne looked down at her beau, and to everyone's surprise, she reached out gently and fondly ruffled his hair. "I will give you the opportunity to illustrate the depths of such feeling next round… if you conduct yourself agreeably, my Theo."

The smile he threw her was one of utter adoration, and in that moment, Draco started to doubt his earlier skepticism of Granger's assessment of the cards. He glanced over at his partner, and clearly, she was sharing the same foreboding concern, her gaze traveling over Daphne and Theo before locking onto his.

"So, the question remains," he managed to draw the group back on topic, and Theo resumed his seat, "how did you define 'wanking,' Weasley, when you wrote up the card?"

Ron shrugged his broad shoulders. "I guess I meant you had to come at the end of it."

Draco nodded, his attention turning to the curly-haired witch at Weasley's left shoulder. "Then my answer would have to be every day, at least once, sometimes two or three times, depending upon how much time I have to waste, and whether I'm in a relationship or not."

"Why should that last part matter?"

That from Hermione, who stared right back at him challengingly. Gods, he loved her sassy, fearless mouth!

"Because if I'm fucking a woman regularly, I don't need to get myself off so often," he replied matter-of-factly. "I'm more satisfied with a woman's touch than my own."

Potter cleared his throat. "Um, no questioning someone's answer, remember?"

Gryffindor's Princess nodded her concession. "Sorry for interrupting." She didn't look very sorry, though. She looked downright intrigued by Draco's answer – which was working miracles on renewing his erection. He had to bite back his excitement (otherwise he'd be tent-poling for the whole group to see), and reached for a red card.

The Irish was next.

Chuckling, he leaned forward and grabbed the next _Deeds _card off the stack in advance, then laid his head back into the sofa cushions and shut his eyes. "Usually it's every day fer me, but sometimes, I'm good for a day or two a'tween."

To his left, Brown looked like she was debating answering, but then looked at her partner out of the corner of her eye and shrugged. "At least three times a week." She grabbed a red card, and next to her Finnegan grinned, leaned in and whispered something in her ear that made the blonde smile brightly and lightly elbow him. He chuckled evilly and sat back again.

The Weasel took a deep breath, leaning back against his clasped hands, settling deeper into the cushions and grinned wickedly at Pansy. "As soon as I wake up every day, like clockwork, I give it a palm either in bed or the showers."

Draco's former girlfriend waggled her eyebrows at her partner once and licked her lips, which made the Weasel King's shit-eating grin take up the expanse of his face.

All right, maybe Granger's idea _wasn't_ as crazy as he'd thought…

Thinking of, it was now her turn. "Got the guts?" he dared her from across the few feet separating them, purposefully staring at her through laughing eyes.

As predictable as a sunrise, she snuffed in disdain and met his challenge head-on. "At least twice a week." She threw him a mischievous leer. "I tend to pick a random spot in the castle to do it, too. This week, it was the Fifth Floor corridor, behind one of the arches, in front of a window. That was Wednesday. Yesterday, it was in the boathouse."

Draco's circulatory and respiratory systems temporarily stopped working. So did the neuropathic relays in his brain.

"You're kidding!" the She-Weasel squawked, turning an incredulous look on her best girl friend.

Hermione shook her head, while keeping eye contact with _him_. "Not kidding."

Theo burst out laughing, and it sounded different from his usual gaiety – sharper, definitely biting. "Who knew the Head Girl wasn't as virtuous as everyone thought? Sneaking about the grounds, fingering her pussy, right under everyone's noses!"

Hermione's brow lowered in disappointment. "I didn't figure you to be so crude, Teddy."

Nott's eyes narrowed into serpentine slits and he frowned. "I could say the same thing… 'Mione."

The two glared at each other across the table – he with sullen hostility, she with dismay and disgust. Everyone else was silent, watching the confrontation unfold, questions about the nature of this previously unknown 'relationship' between the two combatants evident in every eye.

"No discussion," Draco growled angrily, not liking the antagonism aimed towards his girl from his best friend. He knew Theo had a slightly darker side to his typically charming, witty personality that he was very careful not to let slip out (compliments of his vicious father's volatile temper when he'd been a kid), but now it was rearing its ugly head – aimed right at Granger - in what appeared to be indignant resentment.

Clearly, the reason Theo had expressed an interest earlier this week in sticking it to Granger prior to the game starting had nothing to do with the reason his friend had professed (specifically because her "know-it-all" attitude got on his pecks). There was history here that no one aside from the two of them seemed to know (given the bewildered, suspicious looks on everyone else's faces). She hadn't slept with Nott; he hadn't been one of her two men…

… but the cards had let her lie last round to him, hadn't they? She'd said Charlie Weasley had made love to her for sixteen hours, and that had been a blatant lie. He'd been able to suss that out easily. Had she also lied about the number of lovers she'd had then?

Suddenly, her reasons for adding Theo to the list of men she'd fantasized about made a little more sense now, too.

How much of what she'd told him tonight was truth at all?

"Granger, take a _Deeds_," he snapped the command in a hard voice, ignoring Potter's turn to Captain entirely, his jealousy rearing its ugly head again and making him crazy. Better to move this along quickly - so he and his curly-haired partner could have a little discussion behind closed doors about her levels of honesty before things went any further. "Go, She-Weasel."

That worked to break the moment, although the tension still clearly existed. As Granger took her card, little Weasley looked around, locked eyes with Blaise, and then put her hands on her cheeks and groaned. "I can't believe… All right, four or five times a week, okay?" Her face was as orangey-red as her jacket. "I blame stress and not enough chocolate reserves in the whole of England."

That made Tracey giggle and blush. "You should just convince someone to loan you money so you can invest in Willy Wonka's factory, then," the pretty blonde joked.

Potter looked over in pleased surprise at his partner. "Or she could just pray for a Golden Ticket and get her hands on the stock for free."

Hermione tittered. "Steer clear of Oompa Loompas and blue chewing gum, though!"

The three of them laughed at their weirdly private joke. Personally, Draco thought they were speaking a foreign language for crazy people.

"Excuse me, but what in bloody Merlin's armpit are you talking about?" Pansy finally asked, raising one perfectly rounded eyebrow at the three jesters with questioning concern. "Have you three been dipping too frequently into Lovegood's drink recently?" That crack only served to make the three snigger harder. Parkinson tsk'd and gave them all a look that said they belonged on the nut farm.

"All right, all right," Potter finally waved off the chuckling. "I'm not going to answer this one either, out of respect for my date." He reached for a blue card.

Davis stopped him. "You don't have to do that on my account, Harry. If you want to answer, I won't be offended."

Everyone gaped at the reserved blonde in astonishment, even Blaise, who was usually unfazed by just about everything (except the She-Weasel). Tracey's cheeks were brilliant red, but she purposefully kept her eyes on her partner, ignoring the gawking. "But only if you want to."

Potter's eyes did something then Draco thought (prayed, actually) he'd never see – they heated up with blatant, wild lust. "Every other day at least, sometimes every day," the man announced, much to everyone's shock. His eyes never left Davis' face as he confessed, either, and her response was a hitch to her breathing that drew attention to her chest. Her nipples were hard and erect through the fabric.

Draco looked away purposefully. His blonde housemate was cute, but she wasn't where his interest lay. He much preferred brunettes.

He re-focused on the group when Theo started talking. "I'd have to say once a day, minimum. Sometimes twice, though. I'm not discerning about where I do it, either."

Although the man's eyes remained on the stack of cards in the center of the table, as he reached forward to grab a red one, Draco felt the jab had been directed at Hermione, and once more, his protectiveness and suspicion warred.

Pansy interrupted his train of thought by answering the question next. "Three to five times a week, I'd say," she mused, tapping one perfectly manicured fingernail against her bottom lip. Her eyes slid to Weasley. "A vibrating wand is a girl's best friend."

Draco smirked as Hermione shifted embarrassedly at the associated memory that statement conjured.

"Bloody hell," her redheaded partner swore, sitting up, his eyes lit with fire. "I'm gonna need a cold shower after this."

Pansy opened her mouth to reply what would undoubtedly be a rather suggestive offer, but Potter cut her off with a loud, painfully obvious throat clearing. With an impish grin, Draco's ex- reached for a red card and sat back, smirking triumphantly nonetheless, knowing she'd won her new interest's complete attention.

Greengrass shrugged, reaching forward for a _Deeds _card from the stack and answering at the same time. "I have already admitted my interest in self-pleasuring, not only in private, but in public. As for a statistical average, I would fathom a guess of five times per every seven days." She adjusted her glasses again on her nose. "Masturbation alleviates stress and is a rather positive hobby for one's overall heart health. I also find nothing whatsoever shameful in the act itself. To enjoy one's life fully, one must be willing to appreciate all that brings joy."

Theo gave a rousing, whooping cheer and looked up at the ceiling. "Founders, THANK YOU!" he shouted in elation.

Everyone, even Draco, couldn't help but chuckle at such natural enthusiasm.

The round ended where it began – on Blaise. His best friend looked over at his partner and grinned slyly. "Every day or two, and with always the same fantasy girl."

The little Weasel girl sniffed in amusement and shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Sweet talker," she accused playfully, and Zabini waggled his eyebrows twice, smirking, as he reached for a red card.

"Turn your cards over everyone," Gryffindor's Captain required. "If you have to act something out now, say so."

Draco flipped his card and felt his penis jerk in excitement. Now this was more like it! Finally, he had a card that would allow for a little skin to show!

Across the way, Granger looked up at him and licked her lips in partial-heat, partial-wariness. Well, well… it seemed her card was going to require her to do something she wanted, but was nervous to perform. He wondered what that would be.

No one stood up to perform a card, but Draco did need to excuse himself for the loo. Potter and Weasley followed. As he hit the door to the men's head, he heard Granger remind the women to cast the C&DC on themselves again. At least he could count on the ladies monitoring themselves.

As they stood at the urinals, not looking anywhere but straight ahead, Potter began whistling happily. After thirty seconds of that tripe, it got on Draco's last nerve. "Could you please not do that? It makes it crawl back up."

The Weasel burst out laughing, zipped and flushed, then went to the sink. "Yeah, Harry, what's got you grinning like the Sphinx?"

Draco and Potter flushed at the same time, stopped and looked at each other warily, but both of them zipped up and walked to the sinks. "What's got you?" Potter countered to his friend.

Ron splashed cold water over his face and the back of his neck. "I think I…" He looked quickly at Draco, then back into the mirror, readjusting his jacket and shirt. "Nothing."

"I thought Gryffindors like orange and red, not yellow," Draco taunted. Weasley's face predictably turned a nice shade of puce. "If you like Pans, just say so. She certainly seems to be taken with you – although I have absolutely no idea why."

As he was half-way to the door, a large, pale, slightly freckled hand grabbed him lightly to stop him. Draco looked at the offending limb holding onto him, then up the two inches into Weasley's eyes. "Do you… seriously, Malfoy… do you think she does?"

Oh, the options! He had the opportunity to totally crush the most annoying man he knew, squash him like a bug under his laughing heel if he so chose. Two things held him back: one, Pansy's ultimate happiness, and two, Hermione's potential displeasure with him.

With careful, precise movements, he extricated himself from the Weasel's hold. "I certainly think she's off her fucking toffer for you." He turned so that he was face-to-face with the Gryffindor he'd spent the last seven years tormenting (with great pleasure). "If you break her heart, Weasley, I'll see you suffer a rather dissatisfying sex life for the remainder of your time on Earth. Are we clear?"

That purpling shade was back in the other man's cheeks, and the eyes bespoke murder. "Back at you if you hurt 'Mione."

"Agreed," Potter stepped to his friend's side. "'Mione's our best friend, Malfoy, and why she seems to like you is beyond me, but neither of us is going to let you hurt her."

Draco arched an eyebrow at both men, looking down his nose at both in a well-practiced manner. "If hurting her was my aim, Saint Potter, do you really think I'd have gone through all the trouble of setting _this_ type of game up and trying to arrange it for her and me to be partnered? I could have simply seduced her and dumped her flat if a cheap one-off was all I wanted."

The men shared one of those enlightened guy moments then, and Draco knew both of his rivals finally understood what he'd been after for the last three years. Ron's eyes nearly bugged from his head, and Harry… he looked positively stony.

Draco shifted, pulling his shoulders back to ease the tension in them, refusing to be cowed. "Don't interfere," he warned them both flatly. "Just keep your noses on your own love-smitten girlfriends and leave Hermione to make up her own mind about me."

Threats issued properly, Draco turned on his heel and kept walking to the exit.

Back in the main common area, he shoved his hands in his pockets and took out his action card, strolling over to the door of the private suite he shared with Granger while re-reading every word to make sure he understood how far the card would allow things to go, knowing what he did of Granger's outfit. Throwing open the door, he entered without a glance back, not even bothering to check the time.

"You have until 12:37 a.m. to return here," he heard Potter call out as Draco threw himself down on the couch before the fire and leaned back, placing his card in the center of his chest, face-up so his partner could read it when she showed up. Folding his fingers over his abdomen and closing his eyes to rest them, he waited patiently, smiling with sadistic glee.

This next round was going to rock… provided Granger gave him the truthful answers he wanted regarding her history with Theo first. That matter was one that needed an understanding between them before he'd touch her again.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Musical Selection this Chapter: "Love, Sex and Magic" by Ciara and Justin Timberlake. Lyrics are as follows…**

**(boy says to girl)**

_**Talk to me…**_

**(girl singing to boy)**

_**Your touch is so magic to me,**_  
_**The strangest things can happen.**_  
_**The way that you react to me,**_  
_**I wanna do something you can't imagine.**_

_**Imagine…**_

_**If there was a millions me's, talking sexy to you like that…**_  
_**You think you can handle, boy, if I give you my squeeze…**_  
_**And I need you to push it right back.**_

_**Baby, show me…**_  
_**Show me…**_  
_**What's your favorite trick that you want to use on me?**_  
_**And I'll volunteer!**_  
_**And I'll be flowing and going**_  
_**'til clothing disappears…**_  
_**Ain't nothing but shoes on me.**_  
_**Oh, baby!**_

**(boy and girl singing together)**

_**All night show  
With just you and the crowd…  
Doing tricks you've never seen?  
And I bet that I can make you believe  
In love and sex and magic.  
So, let me drive my body around you,  
I bet you know what I mean.  
'Cause you know that I can make you believe  
In love and sex and magic.**_

**(boy singing to girl)**

_**Everything ain't what it seems.**_  
_**I wave my hands, and I got you,**_  
_**And you feel so fly assisting me…**_  
_**But now it's my turn to watch you.**_

_**I ain't gonna stop you**_  
_**If you wanna grab my neck,**_  
_**Talk sexy to me like that.**_  
_**Just do what I taught you, girl,**_  
_**When I give you my heat,**_  
_**And I need you to push it right back.**_

**(girl singing to boy)**

_**Baby, show me…  
Show me…  
What's your favorite trick that you want to use on me?  
And I'll volunteer!  
And I'll be flowing and going  
'til clothing disappears…  
Ain't nothing but shoes on me.  
Oh, baby!**_

**(boy and girl singing together)**

_**All night show**_  
_**With just you and the crowd,**_  
_**Doing tricks that you've never seen?**_  
_**And I bet that I can make you believe**_  
_**In love and sex and magic.**_  
_**So, let me drive my body around you,**_  
_**I bet you know what I mean.**_  
_**'Cause you know that I can make you believe**_  
_**In love and sex and magic.**_

_**Oh, this is the part where we fall in love (sugar)…**_  
_**Oh, let's slow it down so we fall in love….**_  
_**But don't stop what you're doing to me!**_

**(boy and girl singing together)**

_**All night show**_  
_**With just you and the crowd,**_  
_**Doing tricks that you've never seen?**_  
_**And I bet that I can make you believe**_  
_**In love and sex and magic.**_  
_**So, let me drive my body around you,**_  
_**I bet you know what I mean.**_  
_**'Cause you know that I can make you believe**_  
_**In love and sex and magic.**_

_**Love, sex and magic.**_  
_**You know what I mean.**_  
_**I bet that I can make you believe**_  
_**In love and sex and magic!**_


	24. Chapter 5A: Ron & Pansy

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER**__**: "Ms. Louis Cordice Zabini" **__recommended the song, __**"Fallin' For You" by Colbie Caillat **____this go around (she'd originally chosen the song for Harry & Tracey, but I think it perfectly reflects Pansy's thoughts here better). So, this chapter is dedicated to Ms. Louis Cordice Zabini - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

_**P.S. **__**Unseenlibrarian**__ is an awesome beta - she rocks the house (using an Americanism... gosh, I love your sayings over there in the States!)! Remember to tell her you think so, too!_

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter? **

**

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CHAPTER FIVE ( #1): Ron & Pansy

Ron was clearly distracted by a thought that appeared to disturb him, Pansy noted as they entered their private suite. He's been wearing the same sour, pensive expression since he'd exited the loo earlier behind Potter and Malfoy.

Since they'd given each other permission to touch without limitation last round, she took advantage of that offer now, winding herself around him sinuously. "What's got you so preoccupied, lover boy?" she whispered seductively against his ear.

His arms came around her as naturally as if they belonged there and had been doing so for years. He held her close and nuzzled against her hairline. "I think you were right about Malfoy," he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "He's… well, I think he's in love with 'Mione."

Pansy's eyebrows hit the roof. "In lust, yes, obviously. In love, though?" She swung her head around to look him in the eye and smiled playfully. "Did he say something to you when you took a field trip into the boy's room earlier? I thought gossiping in the loo was something only women did?"

Azure eyes studied her with sincere, weighty deliberation for a moment, and then she was lifted into her partner's brawny arms, carried over to the bed and dropped onto it. Ron leaned over her immediately, covering her body with his own and proceeded to kiss her breath away, cradling her into his embrace at the same time. Pansy's brain shut down and her hormones ramped up as his tongue lapped at her lips with deliberate, luscious strokes.

"You bring me to my knees with wanting you, Pansy," he murmured between kisses, thrusting his hands into her hair and holding tight. "What have you done to me?"

Her fingernails scraped through his hair and held on. Her thighs wrapped around his waist. Both actions were instinctual, as if this were the natural state of rest for her limbs; as if they _belonged_ upon Ron's body in such a fashion. "You've done the same to me," she admitted, dipping back in to nibble on his bottom lip. "I have never wanted a man as I do you."

His hot mouth trailed a path over her cheek to her throat, where he proceeded to leave a love bruise upon her pulse point, suckling deep and hard, biting with just enough pressure to leave his mark upon her. "We're gonna do something about it _now_," he told her matter-of-factly, reaching for the buttons on her dress and removing the chains. "Don't try to talk either of us out of it this time."

Pansy bit her lip, her tummy rioting with both fear and anticipation. Was she ready for this? Would it be a mistake? Even though there hadn't been much of an opportunity to develop stronger feelings yet, she still wanted Ron to respect her, and not to treat sex between them as a one-off. "Would it be… strange… if I said I was… a little nervous?" she asked, reaching for the buttons on his jacket and undoing the top few.

Wet, unhurried swipes up and down her throat ended with his lips poised over her ear. "Me, too," he surprisingly admitted with all sincerity. "But it's not gonna stop me from making you mine."

Heart singing with the thrill of his words, Pansy continued down the line of buttons until his embroidered coat was opened, and she shoved it from his broad, burly shoulders. "I cast the C&DC just before coming in here," she told him, just to assure there was full disclosure between them.

"I know," he murmured as he peppered light nips along the bottom of her jaw. "I heard. Flip onto your stomach for me," he growled dominantly, recapturing her lips for a series of brief, but charged kisses. "I'm taking this pretty dress and that collar off of you."

This was it. If she did as he asked, there was no way they wouldn't be shagging in a few minutes. Her blood pulsing through her veins like erupting lava, her body tightening and moistening with need, still Pansy found herself stalling. "My card says I get to dance with you however I want," she rasped, tremblingly touching his lips with her fingertips. "I really wanted us to dance."

Ron smoothed her short bangs over her forehead. "We will be. I won't be fucking you. I'll be making love to you," he tenderly whispered, kissing her nose. "The ultimate dance, right? Now turn over, baby, please."

His poignant request, the tenderness in his gaze, the softness of his tone made her chest squeeze tightly. Closing her eyes, Pansy took a deep breath, let it out and then did as asked. Ron shifted so he was straddling her on his knees as he unbuttoned her collar and slipped it out from under her, and then unzipped her dress. He scooted down the bed and removed her shoes one at a time next. She heard some shifting, and guessed he was removing his own clothes, and then he touched her ankles. "Sit up so I can undress you slowly." She got on her knees and began to turn, but Ron was behind her in a moment, his hands on her shoulders, holding her still. "Stay like that for now," he bid, and then his calloused, scarred fingers slowly, very gently slid the dress off her shoulders.

As he slipped the fabric over her bra, he moved into her, his face appearing over her right shoulder, watching as he stripped her of all defenses. He pressed sweet kisses to her temple, her cheek and her neck as he slipped the dress off her waist and hips, down her thighs, where it pooled on the bed at her knees.

"I love your lingerie, baby," he murmured hotly in her ear. "You look _so_ delicious in it. But it's coming off anyway." Pansy's breath hitched and her heart took off like a fluttering butterfly as he smoothed his hands along a reverse path back up her body, following the curve of her bra to the clasp at her back. She felt the hooks loosen, and then he was removing her strapless, French mini-corset, dropping it off the white, satin-sheeted bed onto the white, shag carpeted floor. "You have the most beautiful, purplish nipples," he whispered, letting his hands roam over her breasts, pinching and rolling her buds into prominence. "So _fucking_ pretty, I want to suck on them forever," he affirmed, lapping up this side of her throat now, while his hands cupped her large breasts and rolled them. "Would you like me to do that while sinking my cock into you nice and slow?" he asked, and it was then that she felt his naked length pressed into her back. "Tell me."

Pansy whimpered and nodded, reaching back and grabbing a hold of his naked, lightly furred thighs. "Gods, _yes_, Ron. Be gentle at first, all right?"

His hands stroked her flared hips and abdomen. "However you want me, baby, I'm yours. You set the pace. Just tell me."

Her chest ached at his touching offer. No man had ever said that to her before, all of them taking what they'd wanted, how they'd wanted, some even when and where they'd wanted with little regard to her feelings. "Slow then," she reasserted. "I want to feel every inch of you come into me."

With surprisingly nimble movements, her garters were unlatched from their stockings. "What position?" he asked, pressing kisses all up and down her shoulder. "Do you want to be on top, or me?"

"What do you like?" she asked, wiggling her bottom seductively against his penis, which rested against her, solid as steel and slightly wet already.

He shook his head. "I asked you first. You tell me how you want me to take you, baby."

She felt like crying. Never had she been treated with so much sweetness and consideration in bed. It made her want to give selflessly back. "I want you above me. I want to see your face when you come inside me for the first time." He groaned directly against her skin, causing lightning to arc from that spot and pool with electric heat straight in her womb.

Sliding her garter mesh overlay and knickers down together, he grabbed the edges with his thumbs and pulling them down with slow insistence. When they got to her knees, he stopped her from trying to turn and go to her back. "Not yet," he teased, lifting her knees one at a time and carefully removing her panties from her legs, inching them down her calves, over her ankles and tossing them to the floor when they cleared her feet. Aside from her lacy stockings, she was now completely nude.

Wedging his knee between her legs, he motioned for her to widen her stance and then dipped his hands into the apex of her thighs and toyed with the very neatly-trimmed patch of hair above and around her lips. Pansy moaned and slid her hands up to his hips, digging her fingernails in lightly when he opened her up and stroked the drenched petals. He groaned as the perfume of her aroused sex infused the air. "You're so wet," he rumbled, his voice gone low and husky. "I love how wet you are for me." Piercing her with two fingers and moving them slowly in and out, she gasped as her velvety flesh parted for him. "I love going down on you, too. You taste like Sugared Butterfly Wings, the white ones – so sweet, with a little salt. No other girl has ever tasted so good to me." His other hand swiped across her clit twice before he brought those fingers to his lips and sucked on them. Pansy turned her head to watch, her breath escaping with a shuddering sigh at the tantalizing picture he presented, glossing his tongue and lips with her juices. Cleaning her sticky fluid away, his free hand returned to her hip, even as his other never stopped its insistent thrusting between her legs. "But I don't have the patience to do that right now. I'm sorry. I _need_ to be inside you." Leaning into her, he rubbed his cheek against hers and sighed in longing. "Tell me you want that, too."

Her eyelids shut tightly, sweat beading her brow and upper lip, Pansy quivered on the edge; she was ready to come just from this little stimulation and the honest desperation in her lover's face and voice. "I… I want that so much. I want you to fuck me sweetly, Ron. I need you to. _Please_."

His fingers gave a final thrust and swipe, and then she was turned and laid back gently, and Ron mounted her, bracing his weight easily on those powerfully muscled arms of his. His cock slid down between her folds and he rubbed himself back and forth a few times. Their gazes locked as silently she widened her thighs and he fit himself at her entrance. His dark aqua eyes burned her with their intensity, his body holding itself poised, the succulent, golden length of him spearing at her glistening core, the red curls already wet with her arousal. "Watch me sink inside you, baby," he commanded. "Watch me love you."

Obeying, her eyes shifted down to his luscious shaft as he pushed forward very slowly and gently and pierced her for the first time.

There was a momentary, uncomfortable twinge that came with being stretched out; Ron was of average length, but he was thicker than she was used to. However, her body adjusted quickly, and then he was smoothly entering her yearning, aching pussy one agonizing inch at a time, his level of control amazing considering his fiery, impatient temperament. Pansy's fingers curled involuntarily to clutch at Ron's flexed biceps and she gasped at the magnificent awareness of his hot, stiff length working its way past her tight, clenching inner tissues. Her legs shook from the burning need that enflamed her whole body and her inner muscles tightened around his broad head and substantial flesh, making the parting of her channel more pleasurable for both of them. "Oh, Ron, I _feel_ you – every bit," she whispered, her eyes rolling back in her head, the exquisite sensation of their bodies becoming one forcing her lids to squeeze tightly closed.

She wanted him to forget her earlier request to take it slow and just thrust hard to the balls, but he was giving her what she had asked for, moving agonizingly, deliberately slow. It was so perfect a feeling, so wonderful a joining that she seriously wanted to weep.

"Don't look away," he charged her softly, stopping when he was half the way buried inside, pulling back out so that the crown of him suckled her opening once again. "Keep watching."

Pansy pried her lids open, looked between them again to amazingly observe and experience those strong hips of his moving in small, short staccato beats, fucking her entrance teasingly with his sensitive, engorged head. "_Oh, gods above!_" Pansy moaned and gasped, her hands grabbing onto his strapping shoulders for support as he tormented her for a bit before sinking back inside. This time, he slid all the way home, fully embedding his penis, sealing their pelvises, every inch of him stilling inside her to rest a moment so they could both just _feel_.

One breath, two, three. They simply stared at each other, and in Ron's eyes she saw a flash of emotion that both frightened and called to her, and Pansy felt her heart clench in response. She feathered his cheek, ran her thumb over his bottom lip. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, leaning into her caress, but when he looked back at her, the tender moment was met with scorching lust again.

Adjusting his knees and tilting his hips, he did her slowly then, just as she'd asked. It was beautiful how he eased himself out of her in an unhurried, measured pace, only to bury his cock deep with each gentle plunge on the return. For a moment, Pansy felt a twinge of irrational jealousy; whomever he'd learned such restraint and skill from had obviously done her job well, for he was well-practiced and expert at this game.

Dipping his head, he lathed her left breast, and rolled his tongue over her nipple even as his hips ground away inside her. "Yes, oh, yes!" she throatily intoned, lifting her hips to meet each of his downward thrusts.

His persistent rhythm, coupled with his alternating attentions to her breasts with his lips, teeth and tongue, quickly brought Pansy to the brink. "I'm coming! _I'm coming!_" she sighed as she was pulled over the edge, and in the gentlest, most loving bringing she'd ever experienced, white sunlight flashed behind her eyes, warmth suffused her whole being, centered where Ron's penis stilled within her, and she felt the undulating muscles of her vagina flex around him in soft waves. Her thighs tightened around his and with the strength of her legs, she pulled his center forward so that he was once more buried completely within. It was a petite orgasm, but it was magnificent. "Oh, _gods_," she whispered, fighting back tears of elation and bliss. "Ron…" She clung to his neck, dragging his face down into her shoulder, and he held her to him, wrapping his arms about her and keeping her safe.

"Was that what you wanted?" he asked her somewhat shyly, nuzzling into her hairline and inhaling deeply. "Was it good?"

Pansy eased up on her hug and let him lean back, meeting his gaze; he seemed very unsure of himself suddenly, clearly waiting on her cue to know how to act next. She gave it to him in the form of a very contented smile. "That was _perfect_," she praised, cupping his cheeks and bringing his head down to meet her lips in a tender kiss. "Sexier than anything I've _ever_ done… watching you go inside me. Oh, you feel _so wonderful!_" Her eyes moved over his face, wanting to commit this moment to memory forever. "I never thought of this act as beautiful before, only fun. This is both."

Relief bloomed across his crimson cheeks, his light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose prominent with his flush of happiness. "So, you liked our dance, then?" he tenderly teased, rubbing his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss.

Merlin, he had pretty lashes for a guy…

Licking her lips and wiggling her hips, she gave him a naughty smile, her body still amped and greedy for the big release. "Absolutely. But I wouldn't mind if you wanted to keep going… only this time, faster… and harder."

Adjusting again so that his thick, corded thighs shoved under hers, tilting her hips back a bit to accommodate a deeper penetration, her lover's answering smirk was positively wicked. "As you wish, baby." Gripping her hips tight with those meaty hands of his, and using that incredible strength in his arms, hips and thighs that he'd honed from years of intensive Quidditch training, he began pumping into her with passionate enthusiasm. Within minutes, he was slamming inside her repeatedly to the chorus of her encouraging wails.

This was more like it! She loved the feel of his cock gently taking her, but this… His shuttling into her fast and hard had her cunt clenching around him convulsively as he pushed her once more towards nirvana with expert handling. He banged her about for long minutes, encouraging her with naughty enticements. "Come on, baby. Fuck me back. That's it. Pump those hips and _moan_ for me."

Her nails dug into his skin as her head tossed back on the white, goose-down pillow. "Yes, yes, _yes!_" she exclaimed loudly with utter delight, her heart slamming so hard in her throat that she thought she would choke on it. "Please, please, _oh, please…_" she begged, teetering on the edge, and to her utter amazement, his speed actually increased again. The slap of flesh on flesh was loud in the tall-ceilinged room as he fucked her harder and faster than she'd ever had a man do to her before.

Ron's sweat dripped down onto her chest and his panting was as loud and lusty as hers. "That's it, Pansy. Come hard all over me. Come!"

His words set her heart, mind and body free, as with a scream of his name, she arched her back and neck and orgasmed powerfully, every muscle within her pussy quavering in wave after wave of fiery ecstasy. "Ron! _Oh, gods, come with me!_"

Seconds later, her lover cried out for her, and Pansy felt his release flood through her. He grabbed her hips so tightly to him that he was embedded to the hilt, shooting jets of come into her again and again as he shouted out his pleasure and erupted within her, finally making her all his. She touched heaven in that second, feeling their bodies unite in purpose, and knew that she was irrevocably changed as a result of this one event. Nothing would _ever_ be the same for her again.

Utterly spent, Pansy collapsed weakly back into the mattress, her body floating on an ocean of contentment. All the while, her heart and mind were at bitter war.

_You can't keep him. You have to let him go…_

Ron's panting breath was hot and loud against her ear as he exhaustedly folded to his elbows, and with a groan, he flopped his sticky, sweaty forehead onto her shoulder. "Fucking… brilliant," he gasped, then placed a big kiss into the bend of her neck. "Oh, Merlin, you were… amazing." He actually coughed from wheezing too hard. "I think… I can die happy now, love."

Fighting back her tears at the use of his sweet endearment, Pansy let her tired limbs cuddle her lover, stroking sensuously, soothingly over his dewy back. "Thank you," she whispered, between pants. "It was all I could… ever have dreamed for. I'll never… forget this moment. _Not ever._"

Scarred knuckles stroked her cheek and calloused fingers ran through her hair as Ron's breathing calmed slowly, and the powerful beat of his heart, which she could feel vibrating through her chest as he lay atop her, receded. He covered a yawn in her shoulder by turning his head. "Did you like it enough to want to do again?" he asked with a snicker, his tired, flaccid member finally sliding out of her as he adjusted to lie at her side. He tucked her into his arms, turning her to face him.

Dreamy, smiling blue orbs of mischief and a sexy, lazy smile challenged her.

Pansy pretended to think about it, shunting aside her painful, melancholy thoughts for now. She would give them this time, as she'd vowed earlier, and wouldn't dwell on anything beyond these hours with him. She had fallen in love, and her heart would be destroyed by it, but she would never regret this decision. "I could be persuaded," she teased, letting her fingers stroke the ridge of his collarbone. "But didn't I wear you out?"

Light ginger eyebrows shot up in cynical mirth. "Hardly. I think I could go again in ten minutes." His fingers lightly caressed her hip. "It's getting me hard again just thinking about it, actually."

Sure enough, her wizard's staff was half-erect already. Her fingers trailed naughtily down his chest, heading for trouble and looking forward to the repercussions. "So, what was your card anyway?" she asked absently, hoping to kill two birds with one stone.

Ron huffed in amusement. "Are you kidding? You still want to play the game?" She nodded and he sighed in surrender, rolling his eyes. "All right, all right. I'm supposed to tell you ten good things about you."

With a wicked laugh, Pansy stroked his cock gently. "Oh, really? Well… why don't you just get started on that list, then, while I busy myself thinking up what position I want you in next."

His penis jumped under her fingers, and his eyes lit up with predatory desire. "Right. Well, you're a fantastic fuck. The best I've ever had. You made me come so hard my head is pounding."

Shoving him onto his back, Pansy straddled his abs. "Truly?" she asked with a sinful smile, her ego always on the look-out for a nice boost here and there.

Nodding in agreement quickly, Ron put his hands on her shoulders and gently nudged her down. Sliding backwards, snickering in triumph, she situated herself between his thighs and took his root firmly in hand. "Tell me more," she coaxed.

"I already said you suck cock like a dream," he sighed as she began stroking him. "And you're gorgeous. Every fecking inch of you, Pansy, is perfect. I love that cute mole on your hip."

Wanting to reward his flattery, she leaned forward and placed her mouth over his tip, Frenching him thoroughly, tasting and smelling their combined essences across his skin. They both moaned together. "Go on," she enticed, lapping at the pre-come that was once more weeping from his slit.

"You're so much fun to be with," he smiled as he shut his eyes, and stroked her cheek while her lips continued to torture his head. "I love the playfulness. I love your sincerity." Stretching her mouth open, she dropped down upon him once again and he hissed in pleasure. "Oh, yeah, baby. Like that." He gently thrust his hips up at her. "Suck hard. Take me deep."

Bloody hell, she loved the way he talked to her. It was crude, but done in such a loving, reverent tone, as if he was praying to a goddess for her blessing. And to be truthful, his words got her all hot and bothered again.

Reaching between her own legs, she flicked her clit once, felt it a tad sore, but electrifying, and started rubbing on it as she liked, working them both back up together.

"Keep going," she coerced, licking a path up his entire length before sinking down on him again.

"You're so smart. How come I never noticed how bloody intelligent you are? It's not like it wasn't staring me in the face all these years," he noted, gasping as she twirled her tongue around the base of him and pulled up with increased pressure. "I like that you read books, and that you're not afraid to sit out on the grass during the spring to suntan, and that you wear pretty clothes and lingerie, and that you smell so good and look so hot. I love that you fight back. Godric's bane, I even love the way you mouth off." His breathing had picked up pace and the hands in her hair tightened marginally. "Merlin's rod, Pansy, stop. I want to be back inside you."

He opened his eyes and gently pulled her towards him. "Climb on."

Soaking wet from her own ministrations, there was absolutely no discomfort as Pansy lowered herself onto his cock. They both inhaled deeply and let it out simultaneously in relief when she sat fully upon him. Ron's hands gripped her wrists and he licked his lips, swallowing heavily as he began to move her over him. "Ride me, baby. Fuck me."

"Oh, just like that," she squealed in delight when he hit with the correct pressure in just the right spot on the inside. "Keep pushing like that."

"Lean down, baby," he requested with heat. "I want at your nips again."

Despite their height difference, Pansy stretched and Ron did an incredible crunch to reach, and then he was taking her nipple in between his teeth and holding on, suckling with pressure; all the while, he continued pumping into her from below. They rocked together, moving in perfect tandem, finding a pace that worked, and slowly, incrementally increasing it until he had no choice but to let her breast go, because her bouncing was too zealous.

"I love that you give so freely of yourself and you don't pretend," he chanted, shoving hard into her that they both could feel the crest of the wave coming upon them quickly. "I love that you find me sexy, I love that I get you wet just looking at you, I love the way your pussy tastes and that you like me fucking you like this. _Oh, gods, Pansy…_ Come for me, baby!"

Pansy was keening in pleasure-pain as her climax took her in its teeth and shook her very soul. "_RON!_"

Grabbing the back of her head, dragging his mouth over her lips, he came in her with a loud, muffled shout. Holding her tightly to him, he rolled them over, slammed his hips into her again and again as he continued to ejaculate into her. "I love _you_," he panted against her lips. "Gods, I _fucking_ love you." He kissed her in between trying to catch his breath. "All these years… you've driven me… absolutely barmy. I… I get it now." He laughed into her shoulder, his arms surrounding her with fierce protectiveness. "I get it."

A floodgate of emotion poured out of Pansy then and she burst into tears. Too much… it was too much in too short a time. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. This was all happening too fast, pulling her under, drowning her in emotion. She'd lost all of her honed calculating rationality - all common sense.

_You can't keep him!_

Ron pulled back and looked down at her, his face completely vulnerable, clearly worried by her weepy reaction to his earnest, impassioned confession.

_With three words, you could ruin him_, the Slytherin within reminded her as she stared up into his handsome face. And she could. She knew she could break this wizard's heart right now, smash it to bits. All she'd have to do was reply, "_I hate you_," and she could send him spiraling into fits of depression, destroying that lovely smile and turning his shimmering eyes into cold lumps of blue coal.

Hell, it would probably be the right thing to do, knowing what the future held. It would make her noble or some shite if she let him go now in a brave, selfless, overly-dramatic manner. He'd hate her, but in the end, it would be for his own good.

But it would also be the evilest lie to ever pass her lips… and a part of her would die in the telling.

_I can't do it. I can't let you go. I'm too selfish. I'm sorry!_

"I love you, too," she surrendered at last, gently brushing his lips with her fingertips, and leaning up to kiss him sweetly to reassure him of her feelings. "I really, _really_ do."

Whooping in joy, Ron wrapped his arms about her and they rolled around on the gigantic white bed, playing, laughing, kissing and getting frisky again until the chimes rang out.

Agreeing to continue playing the game, looking forward to trying out some of the more risqué cards together, they quickly cleaned up and dressed, then headed out to the common area. On the way to the couches, she leaped onto Ron's back and shouted, "giddy up!" and he whisked her around the room in circles making her dizzy, refusing to let her go as others took their seats and watched them playfully misbehave. They laughed together wildly, freely, and Pansy captured each second of those minutes in her heart and mind, burning them into her memories for always.

_I will love you for as long as I can, Ron, _she silently promised him, hugging him tightly to her.

And she would.

She absolutely would.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

_**

* * *

**_

**Sugared Butterfly Wings - A** **wizarding sweet manufactured by ****Madam Borboleta Candies Ltd.**** They are presumably real butterfly wings coated in sugar (they are all different colors, types and flavored differently). ****Honeydukes Sweetshop**** in ****Hogsmeade**** sold Sugared Butterfly Wings. These candies are featured in the ****Honeydukes Virtual Tour****, at Harry Potter . com.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

_**Musical Selection for this chapter: "Fallin' For You" by Colbie Calliat. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**I don't know but,**_  
_**I think that I may be**_  
_**Fallin' for you.**_  
_**Dropping so quickly…**_

_**Maybe I should**_  
_**Keep this to myself.**_  
_**Wait until I**_  
_**Know you better…**_

_**I am trying not to tell you,**_  
_**But I want to!**_  
_**But I'm scared of what you'll say.**_  
_**So I'm hiding**_  
_**What I'm feeling.**_  
_**But I'm tired of**_  
_**Holding this inside my head…**_

_**I've been spending all my**_  
_**Time just thinking 'bout you.**_  
_**I don't know what to do!**_  
_**I think I'm fallin' for you.**_  
_**I've been waiting all my**_  
_**Life and now I find you.**_  
_**I don't know what to do!**_  
_**I think I'm fallin' for you.**_  
_**I'm fallin' for you.**_

_**As I'm standing here**_  
_**And you hold my hand,**_  
_**Pull me towards you,**_  
_**And we start to dance.**_

_**All around us,**_  
_**I see nobody.**_  
_**Here in silence,**_  
_**It's just you and me.**_

_**I'm trying not to tell you**_  
_**But I want to!**_  
_**But I'm scared of what you'll say.**_  
_**So I'm hiding**_  
_**What I'm feeling.**_  
_**But I'm tired of**_  
_**Holding this inside my head…**_

_**I've been spending all my**_  
_**Time just thinking 'bout you.**_  
_**I don't know what to do!**_  
_**I think I'm fallin' for you.**_  
_**I've been waiting all my**_  
_**Life and now I find you.**_  
_**I don't know what to do!**_  
_**I think I'm fallin' for you.**_  
_**I'm fallin' for you.**_

_**Oh, I just can't take it!**_  
_**My heart is racing.**_  
_**Emotions keep spinning out.**_

_**I've been spending all my**_  
_**Time just thinking 'bout you.**_  
_**I don't know what to do!**_  
_**I think I'm fallin' for you.**_  
_**I've been waiting all my**_  
_**Life and now I find you.**_  
_**I don't know what to do!**_  
_**I think I'm fallin' for you.**_  
_**I'm fallin' for you.**_  
_**I think I'm fallin' for you.**_

_**I can't stop thinking 'bout it!**_  
_**I want you all around me!**_  
_**And now I'm scared that I…**_  
_**I think I'm fallin' for you.**_

_**I'm fallin' for you!**_


	25. Chapter 5B: Draco & Hermione

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER**__**: Super-Zelda-Fanatic **__recommended the song, __**"The Right Kind of Wrong" by Leann Rimes **__for Draco & Hermione this go around. It perfectly reflects Hermione's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to Super-Zelda Fanatic - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

_**P.S. **__**Unseenlibrarian**__ took time out of her very busy schedule to beta this chapter. Please do send her your kindest thanks in your reviews!_

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE ( #2): Draco & Hermione**

Hermione could feel the negatively charged atmosphere the moment she stepped into the private suite. Her partner was not in direct sight from the angle of the door, but seeing as how there was only the one piece of furniture in the room – the sofa – and it was turned to face the hearth and away from the door, she knew where Malfoy was hiding. Obviously, he was lying down.

Willing a floor-to-ceiling window into life against the far wall, next to the fireplace, she made her way over to the glass in silence, knowing what was coming but not wanting to be the one to broach the subject. Truthfully, she didn't think that she and Teddy once having a mutual interest would have been such a big deal to Malfoy. After all, her partner hadn't given her any indication that he was looking for anything more from her than a good time during this game. Their new level of… intimacy… did not overtly suggest more than sexual interest on his part, and until tonight, it wasn't as if he'd ever spoken a kind word to her.

True, the last two years he hadn't said much directly to her at all, and sure, she'd learned some odd facts over the last few hours to dramatically change her understanding of him, but that didn't suddenly make them best friends.

The truth was she was wand-shy of becoming emotionally invested in the too-handsome blond. Physical pleasure she didn't mind sharing with him; she could admit to seriously lusting for Slytherin's Prince, as well as suffering an unhealthy (practically insane) curiosity to discover his brand of ecstasy. But giving away pieces of her heart to the boy who had tormented her for years? It would take more than a nice dinner, two massages, some good kisses and a yummy orgasm to make her feel comfortable giving her feelings over to Draco Malfoy.

Besides, if the cards were manipulating them somehow (which seemed a very real possibility in the wizarding world), she was determined not to fall under their sway. Her emotions were her own to give away or not as she chose and she refused to become a victim to magical influence.

At least, that's what her rational mind kept hammering into her common sense… and Hermione prided herself on behaving judiciously _most_ of the time.

So, she waited quietly for her partner to cue her, all the while taking in the view outside at this time of night. Before her, illuminated by the nearly-full moon, were the black waters of the lake. In the far distance, to the left, the boat docks where the railroad depot let them disembark could just barely be seen, and beyond that the Forbidden Forest. To her far right, the stone and iron-wrought walls surrounding the whole of the grounds glowed with the faint bluish-white aura of the protective wards, and stood out like an enchanted scar against the green splendor of the Scottish highlands.

She loved this place, with all her heart. Hogwarts had served as her haven for seven of her most impressionable years. Yet, as of next weekend, she would leave it behind to begin her journey towards the rest of her life. The idea made her decidedly glum.

Warm arms slid around her waist unexpectedly from behind, and she jumped a bit in astonishment; so lost in her internal considerations, Hermione hadn't felt Draco's approach. He sighed, and the sound was uncharacteristically melancholy. "I'm going to miss it here, too," he admitted softly, his silvery gaze connecting with hers in the glass. "It's been my home in a way my parents' house never was or can be. It's going to pain me having to leave a little over seven days from now."

A lump of emotion gathered in her throat and to her horror, tears wavered in her eyes. How had he known? It was as if he'd reached right inside of her and discerned which thoughts were the most poignant but important to address. "Me, too," she admitted, feeling a hot spill of tears down her cheeks. "I didn't think… it would hurt so much to say goodbye."

To her utter surprise, Draco closed his eyes and turned his cheek into hers, nuzzling her sweetly. "We're all grown up now, Hermione. It's time to let go of our childhood and become adults. Time to be free to discover who we really are and what we want out of life." His lips very gently pressed down on the pulse on her throat. "Don't you want that?" he whispered in her ear.

Well, of course she wanted that, but…

Wait just a moment! How was it possible for him to touch her like this without her permission? Didn't the cards prevent any action except when required by a card?

A low growl rumbled against her hairline, where Draco's mouth had unobtrusively placed itself when she wasn't paying attention. "You're thinking too hard again, Granger," he teased. "I can smell the smoke."

Her breath hitched as his hands began tickling her hips and as his lips slid over the shell of her ear and kept going, skimming over her throat. "You… don't find it odd that… you can touch me without permission?" she gasped, right as he bit gently on her neck. "I thought… we couldn't act… like this… without the cards' consent."

Draco paused, seeming to consider, then shrugged. "I'd mentally already given you permission to do whatever you wanted to me for the entirety of the game, Granger. I did that the moment I drew your name." His mouth returned to caressing her sensitive skin, angling around her halter top to reach places that made her dizzy with delight.

"But, _I _didn't… return the sentiment," she argued, her left hand (for the other still held her card) now reaching back to grasp his thigh. He bit her harder over the spot where her shoulder curved and she dug her nails into his slacks and moaned with growing desire. "Until… just this second."

He licked slowly up the length of her neck to her lobe, taking the delicate bit of flesh between his lips and teeth and lightly suckling. His arms had uncrossed and were now smoothing up and down the length of her thighs very slowly. "Is that so?" he hummed across the shell of her ear. "Anything I want?" Those long, pale fingers of his moved to gently capture her hands and began tickling the insides of her wrists with his thumbs, even as she felt the press of his erection persuasively charm its way into the crease of her backside, fitting itself perfectly in-between to begin slowly, tantalizingly rubbing up and down. "Would you let me make love to you? Right now?"

Hermione's mind was mystified by her partner's expert handling. His touches were electric, his voice sinfully enticing. A lesser woman would have been easily seduced thoroughly by him at that moment.

Hermione, however, had promised herself never to be an easy mark again after Charlie…

Pulling herself with _great_ reluctance from her seducer's arms, she moved quickly away from the window, giving herself space to regain control of the situation (_and_ her ragged inhalations of air). Snogging Malfoy, heavy petting, perhaps even a bit more with tongues, lips and hands was one thing, but shagging… that was quite a different matter all together. Hermione was still on the fence about the idea when it came to this wizard, her worries stemming from the fact that she didn't want to be ridiculed - or worse - come Monday morning by Draco if he reverted to his previous _modus operandi_. She wasn't sure she could bear being mocked or laughed at by him after sharing something so intimate.

Getting her breathing and heart rate to return to something approaching normal took a concerted effort, especially when she could feel a pair of lusty, grey eyes burning into her very core from across the room. It took several minutes to manage her energies correctly before she felt she could turn and face him. He was leaning one shoulder against the window, his arms crossed and his attention fully upon her.

"We should play our cards before time runs out," she attempted for calm, coherent… sane. Lifting her _Deeds _action card, she read it aloud for him:

_**DEED: Lick and touch your partner's naked chest.**_

Malfoy didn't reply for half a minute when she'd finished, so she looked up, trying to gauge his mood. His face was alabaster marble; luminescent, but cold. "You're absolutely right, Granger," he bit, angry again. "Let's just get this game over with, shall we?"

What had she done this time? Had denying him the right to shag her angered him?

Well, if it had, then she was glad she hadn't given in! No man who cared a whit about a woman would push her into sex, and then get pissy-tempered when they didn't get their way. Teddy had done that to her, and she'd learned her lesson but good with him.

She glared at him in return displeasure.

With a prickly attitude, he lifted his card to read it. As she waited to hear what fate had in store for her, Hermione dropped her own card onto the mantle of the fireplace nearby.

_**DEED: Your partner must do a seductive strip tease down to their knickers for you.**_

Everything in her mind seemed to shut down, with only one thought rolling over and over in her mind: she wasn't wearing a bra! And her dress was rather simple to remove – unclasp the halter, unzip from the sway of her back, slide down and _voila_!

Holy hell.

"Since I drew first, that means you get to entertain me to start," he announced, tossing his card casually away and walking back to the couch, taking a seat and crossing his legs and hands. "So get to stripping, princess, and make it good."

Hermione blinked in confusion, and then her self-respect felt the proper umbrage and immediately, she went on the defense. "Do you always treat women who tell you 'no' like they're trash for not giving you what you want, or am I a special dispensation because of our charming past history?" she fumed, clenching her fists and letting her nails bite into her palms.

He glared at her, his jaw ticking in annoyance. "And the manner in which you simply dismissed me wasn't equally as offensive?" he countered. "I suppose, however, that I could just write it off as straight-up disinterest. Obviously, your affection lies… _elsewhere_."

Ah, so they'd come to it at last.

She held up a palm out towards him to stop him from saying any more. "Let me just clarify your implied meaning: you think I rejected having sex with you a few minutes ago because I'm infatuated with Teddy, your best friend?"

One golden eyebrow rose, and incensed storm-clouds stared harshly into her very soul. "Did you fuck him?" His tone was venomous.

Mouth gaping slightly at her partner's sheer audacity, Hermione shook her head. "Not that it's any of your business, but no, I did not sleep with Teddy. I told you my personal history last round."

"You could have perjured," he maintained. "After all, you lied about the sixteen hour thing, and the cards didn't stop you then."

That gave her serious pause to consider. He was right; the cards hadn't stopped her from fibbing last round, so it made sense that he would have doubts about anything else she might have told him tonight. "I didn't lie to you, Draco," she said, meeting his gaze with all sincerity. "I've never had sexual intercourse with Teddy. Though not for lack of trying on his part."

She sighed, ran a hand through her hair. How had all of this turned around on her so that suddenly she felt the need to explain herself? Hadn't she just resolved earlier not to tell him too much for fear he'd use anything she said against her? So, why now did she care that, for reasons she didn't at all understand, she'd somehow hurt his feelings?

Briskly walking across to the sofa, Hermione took a seat next to Malfoy, careful to leave a foot or so of space between their positions. "It's quite a ridiculous story, but since it seems to bother you so much…" she grumbled and sighed, staring down at her hands in her lap. "In sixth year, during the Valentine's House parties, Teddy and I got to talking when we met up at Hufflepuff's bash. We hit it off, and by the end of the night, we'd kissed. He started pursuing me immediately, and we arranged to meet at various places throughout the castle for the next two weeks so we could be alone to get to know each other better."

She felt the blush creeping up her face; knew Draco was measuring her carefully and undoubtedly observed it, too.

"There wasn't a lot of talking," she admitted. "We got a little intense with the snogging, but it never went beyond me taking my shirt off for him a few times. He kept pushing me for more, though. He wanted to get into my knickers, but I told him repeatedly that I wasn't ready for that sort of thing." She cleared her throat, feeling the heat in her cheeks like twin burning flames. "Honestly, that was the furthest I'd gone at that point in my life, and I was very doubtful of his intentions when he started badgering me for more than I was comfortable giving. At the end of the two weeks, when he realized I wasn't going to sleep with him, he just... moved on. He didn't even break it off formally with me when he started seeing Julie Parkes."

Biting her lip, she could still recall the hollowness sinking into her chest the day she'd witnessed he and his new girlfriend crawling all over each other in one of the darkened nooks on the third floor. "The whole incident left me feeling used and stupid. I've gone out of my way to avoid him since, because, honestly, I'm embarrassed by the whole thing. I let myself fall into such a cliché trap by a boy with an already-established bad reputation, and then I'd been hurt by what should have been an obvious conclusion. It was all very foolish of me."

Risking a glance up at Malfoy, she grimaced. "It was last year, but apparently Teddy is mad with me now for finding my sexuality finally and not including him in the fun."

Draco narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "You admitted to fantasizing about him and getting yourself off to the thought, so I take it your feelings for him haven't waned?"

Wow, it was getting hot again, wasn't it? Hermione considered conjuring another fan.

"Well, he _is_ rather handsome," she admitted. "And sometimes, I'll catch him looking at me like he might want to give it another go and I wonder what might happen if we did try again. Then sanity catches up with me and I realize that just because I'm attracted to someone doesn't mean it's a good idea to go down that road with them. Teddy's not good for me. We don't work. And I don't fancy being the losing side-character in a romance novel: heartbroken by dangerous fascination."

Malfoy was quiet for a bit, so she risked another glance out of the corner of her eye.

"Is that how you see me, too?" he asked rather bluntly. "Am I just another 'Theo' to you?"

She wasn't sure what prompted her to admit it aloud, but unexpectedly words that were best left unspoken were dislodged from her mouth without restraint. "You're definitely the most perilous preoccupation I've ever had. It frightens me how much I'm attracted to you, and on so many levels."

His eyelids lowered to half-mast and with such a simple gesture, the atmosphere between them changed again, reclaiming its provocative mood. Sultry waves of lustful heat sinuously swept over Hermione's skin, causing it to dampen with perspiration. Draco's hand reached up very slowly to caress her cheek.

"What if I were to tell you that you're my greatest weakness, too?"

Her eyes widened, her breath hitched. "I thought Malfoys didn't have an Achilles' heel," she mumbled, her blood pounding fiercely through her veins and loudly in her ears.

In a quick move, he was tipping her back into the sofa cushions, leaning over her before she could gather her wits enough to counter his action. He braced his weight on flattened palms next to her ears, his lips paused an inch from her own. "You've been my one vulnerability since fourth year, beautiful. I thought I made that clear already." His mouth dipped, brushed against hers butterfly soft, only to return for a second kiss, this time with a powerful, undeniable passion.

Hermione was terrified – not of their physical caresses, but with the feelings that were quickly enveloping her senses. The taste and feel of Draco was pure magic - he was black stars and silver moonlight and smooth, red wine across her tongue, under her fingertips, and pressed into her belly. Just like an hour ago in this very room, against her very will her body and mind betrayed her; her arms encircled his neck and her mouth sought his kiss with a fiery need that burned her straight down the very center of her being. Suckling his pink tongue, drawing it into the well of her mouth, she gasped and strained to bring him closer, as if she would meld their very bones together.

It was hard to tell where one's moans began and the other's left off, so in tune were they to each other's pleasure in that moment. Those magnificent hands of his stroked through her hair, across her jaw, down her throat. His mouth followed their movement, pulling from hers despite her whimper of protest, kissing a path down her overheated skin, pausing over her pulse point to once more suckle gently.

"Yes," she hissed as he nipped and turned her head to give him full access.

He laved over the spot, sunk his teeth into her flesh lightly, and suckled until she knew there would be a bruise. Hot breath blew against her ear. "Do you like this? What I do to you?"

Her brain muzzy, her chest heaving to catch up with the needs of her fiercely pumping heart, Hermione could only nod.

"Sit up with me so we can do our cards," he suggested, leaning back onto his haunches and pulling her with him, keeping his lips glued to hers, letting his tongue seduce her into compliance. They flowed together until she was up on her knees, matching him. He still towered over her, even from this position, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

Draco's fingers toyed with the collar of her dress. "Tilt your head forward," he bid gently as their mouths moved away, and she complied easily, resting her forehead into the bend of his neck. "We'll do your strip-tease together," he informed her, as he unbuttoned the clasp and drew the halter down very slowly. He leaned back only a little, enough for him to be able to look down upon her. "Put your hands over mine."

Letting go of his biceps, Hermione did as bade, and they watched each other as slowly the silken fabric of her dress slipped down, revealing the tops of her mounds. Hermione felt the lava bloom in her face and up her neck, felt her body tightening in a combination of fear and need. Was she really doing this? In a second, he'd see her naked top… Oh gods, _OH GODS!_

Draco licked his lips and the pace of his breathing increased as her nipples were teasingly revealed. His lips parted as those beautiful, wintery eyes gaped with astonished, red-hot lust. "Slytherin's soul," he whispered in awe as inch by torturous inch, her torso was revealed. "So beautiful." As the dress dipped to expose her bellybutton, he swallowed thickly and paused, holding her dress at her waist as his eyes lazily drew back to her light honey-colored globes.

Not a narcissistic woman by nature, nonetheless Hermione knew her breasts were pretty. They were a good handful, with attractive, pink nipples that were not too small, nor too large. However, the way Malfoy stared at them it was as if they were the most precious commodity in the universe. Such admiration was silly, did amazing things for her vanity, and made her feel a bit embarrassed and humbled and naughty all at the same time.

Empowered by the scorching, blatant desire in her partner's eyes, Hermione ran her hands up Malfoy's arms, touching his sleek muscles. Her card _did_ give permission for her to touch and lick his chest, after all.

Slowly, she paced her hands down over his defined torso, feeling the pebbled nipples and tight waistline on her journey towards his shirt's hem. "My turn," she murmured, gripping the edge of the soft, cottony material and slowly running a reverse trail, making sure to caress his flesh directly as it was exposed. His temperature ran hot and his skin was slightly moist.

Her dress fell to her knees as Draco let it go, so she could tug his shirt from his arms. "Godric," she whispered as his torso was fully revealed to her, "you're…" Her mouth couldn't form the words to express her thoughts as her hand ran smoothly over his left pectoral, even as he dropped his white cabana pullover onto the back of the couch. Her fingers trailed over the smooth, pale skin of his body, touching every inch, softly tracing the lightly beige nipples in slow circles, following each crevice of muscle in his abs as he unconsciously flexed under her tickling fingers. He was hairless except for a small gathering of soft, golden fur under his arms, and was trimmed of all fat – flawlessly sculpted to epitomize the graceful, agile predator. "Perfect," she determined.

Pressing a kiss to his throat brought her chest into contact with his. Her taut nipples brushed against his blazing flesh, causing them both to gasp and moan. He reached for her, but she quickly captured his wrists to defer the action. "Stay still," she sighed as her mouth traveled lower, leaving a path of wet lipstick across him as she moved. "This is my card now."

He took a deep breath as she kissed him from one shoulder to the other, releasing the restraint she held upon his limbs to allow her fingertips to continue familiarizing themselves with the texture of his skin, trusting him not to disobey. To her satisfaction, he did not contravene her exploration, which continued down, down, down his eager, straining body. She tasted a small bit of salt as she took his right nipple between her lips and suckled. "Bloody hell!" he swore, his hands gripping his thighs with pressure, his head thrown to the sky. "Oh, _yeah_, like that!"

Hermione's fingers dipped around his back, traveled up his spine, and back down to the sway of his hind, even as her mouth lavished attention upon the other nipple.

"It's okay to use your teeth," he coaxed gently. When she followed his advice, Malfoy hissed in deep pleasure. "Oh yeah, princess, give it to me. Bite harder." She increased the pressure slightly, instinctively knowing when to back off, soothing the sting with her tongue after, as he groaned with intense pleasure. "Lick lower, beautiful. Use your wicked, little mouth on me."

To a chorus of his moans, she outlined each ripple of muscle over his stomach, circled his bellybutton and dipped in, then ringed the edge of his trousers before working her way back up, enjoying the power she wielded over this beautiful man. Lapping over his lips once, twice, she kissed him softly to end her session. "You taste like a Blood Pop – salty and sweet combined." She licked her own lips and used one fingernail to flick gently over his left nipple, smiling playfully, feeling her inner siren come to life again, as it had at the end of the last round. "My favourite wizarding treat."

Malfoy was literally quaking now with repressed hunger. "Let me touch you," he begged, his hands reaching for her chest, but stopping just shy of cupping her mounds. "By Merlin's rod, say it's okay to touch _these_."

Giving him her best, most sinful smirk, Hermione thrust her breasts against his palms and wrapped her arms about his neck again. "These, you mean?" she teased, wiggling against him inflammatorily, knowing he could make no move without her explicit, verbal allowance or he'd commit a foul. "But that's not part of your reward this time. The cards don't say so, anyway. Maybe you'll have better luck next round, though."

Those tempestuous eyes of his narrowed. "Fuck it then, I'll forfeit," he growled, and Hermione found herself suddenly on her back again, squealing in delight as his lips latched onto her right nipple and began sucking with moist heat. "_Oh, my God! Yes!_" she mewled, bowing her back as he drew her deep into the cavern of his mouth, rimming her areola with that skillful tongue of his. "Don't stop!" Within moments, she was a babbling, incoherent animal of pure lust, begging for more. Her expert lover willingly gave as she demanded, too, paying attention to both breasts with equal fervor, tweaking and rubbing with a hand the one while the other was lathed, nipped and nursed with a talent that left her breathless.

"Do you like this?" he asked in a dark whisper against her flesh while lapping the rosy bud over her heart, letting his fingertip delight over the area of the neglected breast at the same time, gently rubbing his saliva into her flesh. "Do you like the way I make you feel? Tell me true, Granger."

Hermione's fingers slid through his soft, platinum hair. "Yes," she sighed in resigned contentment. "I like this – like _you_. Too much, I fear."

Draco pulled himself away from his attentions and looked up into her glowing face. For long moments, they simply stared at each other, neither speaking, gauging each other's intentions. In her partner's eyes, there shone not just sexual tension, but something more… a strange, vulnerable gentleness. "Me, too," he admitted softly, his low voice entrancing. "Am I pushing you too fast, though, like Theo?"

How did she feel about what they'd done so far? She pursed her lips. "Um, no. If I hadn't wanted you to touch my… um…"

"Jugs," he supplied with a sly, teasing grin, a bit of the old, reliable Malfoy peeking through once more.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "_Breasts_," she emphasized with a suffering sigh, "then I wouldn't have thrust them into your hands, now would I?" She hummed in consideration. "And apparently, the spell on the cards took that act as permission, too, because they allowed it." Flicking him on the shoulder playfully, she smiled. "So, I guess that means you're saved and didn't commit a foul."

"Does that mean you'll touch my prick now?" He grinned mischievously and waggled his eyebrows.

She gave him a withering glare.

Undaunted, Draco simply bent his head and kissed her nipple, beaming and laying his cheek on her breast. "Oh, well, maybe next round."

A strange thought occurred to her on the fly and Hermione bit her lip, debating internally whether to ask her favour or not.

"I can practically hear the gears turning, Granger," Draco commented, a small smile gracing his lips as he nuzzled against her boob. "What do you want to ask now?"

Running her nails through his hair, lightly scraping against his skull, making him groan with pleasure at the simple touch, she huffed in astonishment. He'd done it again: seamlessly read her emotions, almost as if he knew her so well. "I wondered if… Would you hold me again?" He glanced up at her with surprise. "I rather like doing that with you."

With an easy thought, Draco made the couch widen, and he slid in behind her. Turning to face him and adjusting, she laid her head on his arm, pressing her face into his naked chest, wrapping herself around his middle. He slid his free arm over her and pulled her in tight so that their nude upper bodies rested together. It was a natural fit, and to Hermione's amazement, it felt so very right.

"This feels right," he once more echoed her thoughts aloud. "We fit well."

"You don't sound surprised," she noted.

An odd rumbling chuckle reverberated under her ear. "I'm not," he admitted. "I always knew we would."

She let that strange comment lie between them, not daring to break the silence, enjoying the sound of Malfoy's heart beating steadily under her ear, and the feel of his chest rising rhythmically, strongly in time with hers. They stayed that way for a good ten minutes, before his soft whisper against her temple woke her from the lull.

"I'm going to ask you something that's going to blow your knee socks off, Granger, so I want you to prepare yourself," he commented rather evenly. As he spoke, his free hand had roamed up her spine lazily to entangle itself in her hair. Now, he gently pulled her face back with some small pressure, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Are you ready?"

Swallowing thickly, her heart slamming hard against the underside of her ribs, her tummy rioting with pixies, Hermione looked into Draco's face and nodded, waiting on pins and needles.

He stared down at her with steely regard. "I want you to know that this isn't something I'm offering just because of what we've done tonight. I've been thinking about it long before this game." He licked his lips. "I just want to establish that up-front, so you'll know I respect you for your talents and brains, not just your body."

Hermione blinked in confusion. "All right," she agreed, feeling he was behaving in a very dodgy manner.

He nodded, seemed intent upon his course of action, and yet sweat beaded his upper lip. "Right, so, will you consider… That is to say…" He paused, clearly nervous.

"Spit it out all ready, would you?" she teased, grinning.

He threw her a dismayed look and sighed. "Would you consider working for me after graduation, as a partner in my company?"

That was the absolute last thing she'd been expecting and strangely, the rather perfect application in just that moment. She raised her brows at him appraisingly and bit the inside of her cheek in thought. "We're talking about your idea for importing plants and herbs from Asia to the Western markets, right? Same business model as you mentioned previously?"

He nodded tensely. "You seemed to think it a rather interesting idea, or so I gathered."

Her fingernails on his chest began drumming as she thought about it. "Hmmm…" Really, what did she have to look forward to after graduation? A career for the Ministry was a 'safe' route, but it honestly didn't seem all that exciting to her. Her heart had never really been enthused with the idea from the start. And if there was one thing she'd always wanted to do, it was to meet people from different cultures, to discover the world.

"It's a good fit for your talents," he continued the sales pitch, seemingly eager to bring her into the scheme. "You'd get to use all that knowledge stored up in your brain to earn a living, you'd get to travel like you wanted, you'd be instrumental in helping schools here in the West with their educational opportunities, and you'd be helping to open doors between the European and Asian wizarding worlds."

Hermione stared up at him, noted his apprehension. Clearly, he needed her to make his plans come to fruition – and that shifted the balance of power in this negotiation in her favour. "A fifty-fifty partnership," she offered. "Or forget it."

Draco froze, as if he hadn't expected her to agree so quickly. "It would have to be twenty-five percent," he countered. "Blaise is already in. He's personally rich from his grandmother's inheritance, and he's matching me galleon-for-galleon in capital to start. His family is also made up of contract solicitors and negotiators and he's bringing them with him. And my mother's agreed to back the endeavor with the personal accounts she was left by her father, so she's a full partner, too."

"I don't have any money to bring to the table," Hermione admitted.

Malfoy shook his head. "Your wealth is all up here," he tapped her head. "We're going to need you to identify the potentially best and most lucrative herbological stocks on which to focus our acquisitions, determine their sources, and to teach us proper etiquette for approaching and opening up market trade with foreign cultures."

Her mind whirling with the possibilities, Hermione excitedly leaped into the fray head-long. "We might want to bring Neville on-board, then. Professor Sprout says he's the best student in Herbology that she's seen in her entire teaching career. Oh! And Pansy Parkinson, too." She made a small face. "We may not get along, but she's second to Neville, and she's really good in Potions, like you. And Dumbledore - we should get his buy-in. He can easily convince the Ministry as well as Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to open their programs up for corporate sponsorship-"

Her partner chuckled, placing a hand over her mouth. "So, I take it you're on-board then?" he asked the obvious.

Hermione stopped, surprised by her strong reaction. She hadn't been this excited since, well, since second year when she'd sneakily made Polyjuice Potion right under the nose of every teacher and student in school. Clearly, her career with the Ministry was over before it had even begun. "Yes, definitely. I _really_ think this could work, Draco. I think I'd love this chance."

His smile was warm, relieved, contented. "I'm glad to hear that. We can draw up the particulars of the job title and responsibilities next week then." His silvery admiration shifted from sincere to seductive in record time, and his free hand released its hold on her hair and glided down her bare back, ending only when cupping her arse cheek and pulling her into intimate knowledge with his newly awakened arousal. "So, as a full partner of _Malfoy, Zabini and Granger Investments _now, I feel it only proper to inform you of our sexual harassment policy."

Hermione's initial shock at being so seductively groped adjusted quickly, evolving into cynical amusement. "Oh? And what does it say, exactly?"

He dipped his head to claim her lips once more, his playful smile making it difficult for them to properly snog-out. "Nothing at all. There isn't one, you see."

Much to Hermione's delight, Malfoy proceeded to prove to her for the next few minutes that there was, in fact, no such policy or procedure in place to prevent him from bathing her with his tongue, nor from suckling and nibbling on her nips until they were pleasantly sore and their tender skin bore equal teeth imprints. It didn't thwart her when she reached down between them and tentatively touched his cock through his slacks for the first time either (Pansy wasn't kidding about his size, was she?), or from her mouth marking his pecs up with love bites in pleasurable retaliation for his attentions.

When the chimes rang out, they both froze as the veracity of their current situation floated them back to reality's surface. They were still playing the game, weren't they?

Bugger.

Reluctantly, Draco broke their kiss and growled in annoyance as she began shifting to sit up. "No," he reached for her, pulling back down. "Just forget the game. Stay. Let's shag each other senseless."

Feeling frisky, a small sadistic part of her loving to watch him beg, Hermione shook her head firmly and moved to pull her dress back into place, having to stand up at the end to get it correctly adjusted and the collar re-buttoned. "Aren't you even curious about the next cards?" she smiled mysteriously. "What if they offer us an opportunity for something entertaining… or truly naughty?" She purposefully spoke the last in a low, sultry tone. She held a finger up and wagged it at him. "Remember, I've read all the cards for my side. There are some truly creative ones in there I wouldn't mind trying out."

"Like?" he prompted, leaning up on one elbow to appreciate her reverse strip-tease.

Hermione considered it as she struggled to re-zip the small closure at the small of her back. The teeth were stuck, and she was trying to pull them right without ripping the dress. "Well, like licking food off of your body, or using a feather or other type of toy on you, or forcing you to bring me orally. Any of those would be fun."

Draco's face became as eager as a little boy's at Christmas. He sat up suddenly, arctic eyes twinkling with excitement, and reached for his shirt, fitting his arms into the armholes and pulling it over his head quickly. "Well, when you say it like that…" he mused, then stood, realized he was sporting a raging hard-on and rather politely adjusted himself by turning his back. She couldn't help but snicker at that.

When he was 'decent' again, he came to her side in two strides, smoothed down her hair and her dress, taking the opportunity to 'accidentally' brush against her nipples a last time, causing them to harden, then offered her his arm.

They were throwing each other flirtatious, saucy smiles as they neared the couches in the main area. Before he let her go to take her seat, Malfoy stepped into Hermione's personal space, brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, running his lips over them suggestively. "Game on then," he whispered so low that only the two of them could hear.

"Bring it," she very quietly bantered back and threw him a challenging smirk before moving away and sitting across from him once more.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

******PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter?**

.

**On June 13, 1998, the moon was 90% visible in the sky (it had just past its full stage by three days). So, basically, it was still really bright.**

**I used JKR's hand-drawn map of Hogwarts grounds to base where Hermione might be looking out the window. The Room of Requirement is on the Seventh Floor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy (where it is said to be in the novels), and I picture it being in the southwest corner (a dead end), looking out over the lake (which JKR indicates is south of the castle), down the total opposite end of the hall from Gryffindor Tower (which is on the southeast corner).**

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**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "The Right Kind of Wrong" by Leann Rimes. Lyrics are as follows…**

_**I know all about… yeah, 'bout your reputation.  
And how it's bound to be a heartbreak situation.  
But I can't help it if I'm helpless every time that I'm where you are.  
**_

_**You walk in, and my strength walks out the door.**_

_**Say my name and I can't fight it any more.**_

_**Oh, I know, I should go,  
But I need your touch just too damn much!**_

_**Loving you…**_

_**That isn't really something I should do.  
I shouldn't wanna spend my time with you.  
Well, I should try to be strong.  
But baby you're the right kind of wrong.  
Yeah, baby you're the right kind of wrong.**_

_**It might be a mistake…A mistake I'm makin'.**_  
_**But what your giving I am happy to be taking.**_  
_**Cause no one's ever made me feel the way I feel when I'm in your arms.**_

_**They say you're something I should do without.**_  
_**They don't know what goes on when the lights go out.**_  
_**There's no way to explain**_  
_**All the pleasure is worth all the pain.**_

_**Loving you…**_

_**That isn't really something I should do.  
I shouldn't wanna spend my time with you.  
Well, I should try to be strong.  
But baby you're the right kind of wrong.  
Yeah, baby you're the right kind of wrong.**_

_**I should try to run, but I just can't seem to,**_  
_**'Cause every time I run, you're the one I run to.**_  
_**Can't do without what you do to me.**_  
_**I don't care if I'm in too deep, yeah!**_

_**I know all about… yeah, 'bout your reputation.**_  
_**And now it's bound to be a heartbreak situation.**_  
_**But I can't help it if I'm helpless every time that I'm where you are.**_

_**You walk in, and my strength walks out the door.**_

_**Say my name and I can't fight it any more.**_

_**Oh, I know, I should go,  
But I need your touch just too damn much!**_

_**Loving you…**_

_**That isn't really something I should do.  
I shouldn't wanna spend my time with you.  
Well, I should try to be strong (I should try to be strong!)  
But baby you're the right kind of wrong (right kind of wrong).  
Baby, you're the right kind of wrong.  
Baby, you're the right kind of wrong.**_

_**Yeah, baby you're the right kind of wrong!**_


	26. Chapter 5C: Seamus & Lavender

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**emerald and onyx **__recommended the song, "__**Twisted" by Carrie Underwood **__for Lavender & Seamus this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Lavender's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**emerald and onyx**__ - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favourites, and reward you, as promised!**

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – "you are our beta sunshine… our only beta sunshine… you make us happy… when docs are astray!"

**PLEASE REVIEW! **

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**CHAPTER FIVE (#3): Seamus & Lavender**

The magical fire in the hearth was still lit, snapping and crackling in the quiet, providing the only sound in the room as the door silently closed behind Lavender. She leaned against the cool wood, getting slight goose bumps from the temperature difference on the bare skin of her shoulders and arms, carefully watching her partner.

Seamus turned at her obvious reluctance to follow him further into the familiar space, the green of his spring-coloured eyes assessing her mood and body language.

It was still a bit awkward between them. Even thought they'd come to an agreement, and she'd willed her course in staying in the game, accepting the idea of giving her ex-lover a second chance, her automatic defenses were difficult to let down. It was hard to retrain them to think of Seamus as trustworthy - especially since she'd spent the better part of the last two years convincing her heart and mind otherwise. She'd promised to try, though, and that meant lowering her guard and giving this an honest chance.

Sighing in resignation, she presented her card to her sexy, entirely-too-tempting Irishman, per last round's agreement. It sucked that she'd have to give this action up, as she really wanted to spank that sexy arse of his, but at least losing this chance had been worth it, as that kiss they'd shared had inflamed her senses and made her realize just how sexually and emotionally attracted to this wizard she really was. That lip-lock had, in fact, been the final, deciding factor in continuing the game, although she was quite sure that her partner had no idea as to its import.

Seamus' glance flickered to the card in her hand, then back to her face, and he shook his head. "Deal or no, I'll not be takin' yer card. Ya wanted ta be in charge." He gave her a shy smile and held out his own to her instead. "I said I'd be what ya need, angel, and I meant it. Take mine, yeah? Then ya can have both actions ta do as ya will."

Their cards held out to each other, they stared across the few feet between them, each caught in the other's considering gaze.

Finally, she dropped her eyes to his card, and read it upside down:

_**DEED: Your partner has to wank you off with their hand.**_

Oh, yum! That _did _sound like an act she'd want to own, but given the nature of her own card – and what she was about to do to him – perhaps this time it would be best to leave him the opportunity to find some pleasure.

"I'd rather you keep it," she said. "You're not going to enjoy my card."

She read it aloud to him:

_**DEED: Tie up your partner and paddle them lightly. **_

Seamus' eyes widened, and he seemed genuinely astonished for all of two seconds before he began chuckling and a wicked gleam entered his eye. "Well, I canna say I've ever had that sort o' thing done ta me a'fore. Ye'll be getting one o' me firsts, love. It should be interestin', dontcha think?"

That floored her. "You really don't mind being tied up against your will and paddled?"

Her partner was in her personal space, crowding her against the door, his arms caging her in on either side, his forehead pressed to hers. Those verdant irises of his burned with sexual intent. "Not when it's ya who'll be doin' the paddlin'," he huskily stated, gripping one of her hands and bringing it to the bulge in his trousers that was, even then, growing harder by the second. "And the strokin' after." He let his lips very lightly roam over her cheek in a sultry trail towards her mouth, rubbing her up and down his steely length.

Lavender's heart leapt into her throat, threatening to choke her with its explosive pace.

"I want ya ta know the feel o' me, sweet angel. I want ya ta torture me with those sinful fingers o' yers," he purred in mounting excitement, his nose running along her skin, his mouth buzzing her lips. "Do anythin' ya want ta me, Lavender. Make me yers, love."

Godric Almighty, Seamus Evander Finnigan was pure lust on tap! Between her thighs, the crotch of her knickers was already decidedly damp, and he hadn't even really touched her yet! "You'd better kiss me right now, Finnigan, or else," she warned in a trembling voice, shaking all over with need.

Not requiring to be told twice, her man swiftly sealed their lips together with an eager hunger. Her head was spinning from his taste, and the feel of his pelvis pressing into hers; the wall secured her in position from the backside so there was absolutely no chance to avoid their bodies melding together. Not that she'd want to escape this –_ hell, no!_ His kiss was a candy burst of sweet on her tongue, a bottle rocket explosion in her belly, a Jelly-Leg Jinx for her knees.

Merlin's wand, she wanted this charming wizard bad!

They snogged for long minutes, eagerly grasping at each other, their hands roaming everywhere with equally-understood permission. When he lifted her under the bum with those bulging muscles of his, shoving her dress up and pinning her even more firmly to the wall, Lavender held on tight to his shoulders. He gripped her hips with desperate need as he settled her right over his covered cock, and they both gasped in pleasure at the contact.

"Oh, gods," she moaned, her panting matching his. "Sea!"

That familiar feeling was back – the one that started in the back of her brain and traveled down her spine, electrifying every nerve along the way, finding and settling heat into her very womb. A part of her that had remained dormant since the aftermath of their one night together came alive again, roaring its way to the surface, tearing away all rationality and common sense, and opening her up to the thrill of decadent, hedonistic danger.

Straining against her partner, rubbing herself provocatively over his hard length with wanton need, Lavender's body burned and begged for release. Seamus could fuck her right then and there, against the wall, as fast and hard as he wanted, and she knew that she'd let him, so desperate was she for him to fill all of the empty spaces in her heart and body.

Why did she ever only feel this way with this man? Was he magically enticing her somehow or was this something genuine and raw that existed only between the two of them?

Ultimately, it was her wizard who considerately reined them in. Pulling his mouth off hers, he laid his slightly damp brow on her throat, breathing heavily against her too-sensitive skin. "Gotta stop, love, or else I'll be havin' ya like this, and I don't think ya'd want that." Gently, he lowered her to the floor and moved his pelvis away from hers. His hands slid around to entwine their fingers in an affectionate manner. He lifted his head, and gave her an impish smile. "'Sides, yer supposed ta be in charge, yeah? I jumped the line and took command." He rubbed his nose over hers. "Sorry about that. Yer just too bloody sexy to keep me hands off."

Having regained a bit of her sanity in the intervening seconds, Lavender worked on regulating her breathing and nodded. "Right. Absolutely. I wouldn't have wanted…" She took a deep inhalation, and let it out with slow deliberation, realizing she shouldn't lie. "Oh, hell, I _did_ want you shagging me senseless right then." Clearing her throat, feeling much more in control, she stepped around him, releasing their hands, and righted her dress. "But you're right: we need to focus."

Bending at the knees, she stooped and picked up both cards, which had been tossed aside upon their fervent embrace. "Let's see, I'm supposed to-" She read the two _Deeds_ again. "Oh, yes. That's right. Paddling."

Her partner was suddenly in her space again as he ran a single finger down her spine and moved into her backside, fitting his curves into hers. "And tyin' me up, and strokin' me off." His hot breath bathed the side of her neck, near her ear as he leaned close. "Don't forget that, yeah?"

Swallowing with anticipation, she nodded.

Entwining their fingers again, he nudged her with his nose. "Take me where ya will. Move me as ya see fit. I'll follow yer lead, sweet angel."

Merlin, give her a minute to get her heart back under control! The thing felt like it might pulse right through her chest right then.

_Get a grip!_, she berated herself, using one of Parvati's favourite Muggle-isms. _You aren't some little virgin girl!_ She knew what to do and how to use her body in an effective manner with a man. Having seen to her own pleasure countless times, she'd also enjoyed Ron between her thighs for the better part of this whole school year. In between their casual interludes, she'd "gotten her freak on" - as her best girl friend would say - with another man in a series of serial one-offs that were both fun and quite educational. With such a résumé of experience, she could most certainly handle Seamus.

Taking in the whole of the room, Lavender realized things were going to have to change for what she intended; _this_ just would not do. The couch was gone with a mere thought, and in its place appeared two sturdy columns connected with an overhanging arch, all made of slab stone. Hanging down from the arch were two lengths of strong, black velvet rope. Next to the set-up was a small table with a small bottle of lubricant and a variety of paddles – one fur-trimmed, one flat with dark leather stretched over the entire width, and another long, leather strap with cut-outs of hearts embedded down the length.

Behind her, Seamus chuckled. "Never figured ya for the leather 'n chains type, love, but if that's what turns ya on..."

Letting her man's hand go, she spun on him and affected a commanding tone. "Strip for me." Willing a stool into place behind her, she reached back and hopped up, crossing her legs and waiting with a canary-eating grin. "All of it."

One dark eyebrow shot up in amusement, and then her man was all business. Slowly, he began unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes locked on hers. Lavender followed the path of his hands, feeling her heart skip with each button freed from its captive hole. Sliding the shirt from his shoulders, he willed a chair into existence to place his clothing upon. Leaning down, he removed his shoes and socks next, using the back of the chair for balance.

He had nice feet, well-groomed, she noted absently before the action of his hands caught her attention once more. He was taking his tank off, and underneath… _oh, gods_. He'd filled into his adult body, and was all hard-edged muscle from neck to hips. He had the build of a perfect Beater for Quidditch – broad, significant shoulders and biceps, pecs that were all power, washboard abs. Of all the men here tonight, he was the most potently built, despite being an inch or so shy of six feet.

Standing there before her, loosening his belt buckle without any sort of bashfulness, he seemed the most unassailable man she'd ever known.

"Like what ya see, Lavender?" he purred in a low, smooth tone, rolling her name around his tongue with that lilting brogue that sent her toes curling and her body tightening with need.

"Yes, but I want more," she replied, her own voice having gone husky with desire. Their eyes met and the room sizzled as she leaned forward on the stool, keeping herself from launching across the space only by digging her nails into the wood at her side. "Show me all of you, Sea. Show me that hard cock I've heard so much about. I want to finally see what was inside me once. I've waited long enough to know what you look like in the light."

There was a momentary pause, and his expression shifted, filling with a sexual hunger she'd only barely glimpsed in him before. This was a darker, more dominant side to his personality – the masculine predator that ever lurked behind his sweet words, teasing smiles, and easy-going jokes. He was finally letting down his full guard, showing her the other half of him.

The tension in the room shot up by degrees.

Gods, she _wanted_ him!

He pulled his belt from its loops and tossed it away, popped the button on his pants and unzipped, and nudged his slacks so they glided down his legs. The green-striped short boxers were adorable, and she gave him an amused smile.

"Irish pride," she teased.

"Ta the end, me love," he cheekily played back.

His fingers slid over the huge bulge in his pants, and it was only then that she noted that he was clearly spilling over the rim. The package straining the front of the fabric was quite sizable, and definitely wanted its freedom. Grabbing the edges of his pants, he dragged them down his body. His expansive flesh spilled out and Lavender's gaze zeroed in to get her first, good look at her lover's penis.

Parvati hadn't been exaggerating: he was fecking _huge_. He had to be at least eleven inches long, and five or six inches in girth.

Feeling the shape of him under her hand last round hadn't given her a good enough idea of his size, obviously, because she was quite shocked by the actual sight before her. Gods, he was bigger than Zabini, who had been the largest lover she'd experienced to date. Even then, Blaise's cock had been quite a stretch to fit, quite honestly. As she considered Sea's pride now… Founders, had _that_, really, been inside her once? How had they even fit? Godric almighty, no wonder it had hurt so much her first time!

Having divested all of his clothing, he casually strolled towards her, his enormous shaft bobbing up and down with every step. He stopped just shy of her crossed legs, and threw her a challenging look. "This what ya expected, angel?"

Her mouth was too dry to speak, her brain too numb to work her muscles into a nod. All she could do was stare… and want.

A sensual smirk trailed up his right cheek. "Soon, me love," he promised her. "When we're ready ta cross tha' line again together, ye'll have this all fer yerself again." His fingers moved slowly over his body in a seductive trail, enticing her to want to reach out and join them in their roaming. One hand smoothed over a firmly defined pectoral, while the other glided down his washboard abs, dipping into the light thatch of black, curly hair that cradled the object of her fascination. He gripped his cock in a tight hold, holding the length away from his body so she could have an unimpeded view.

Godric, it was beautiful. Smooth skin that was straight as an arrow – no curve - and a large, pinkish head that was beaded with the evidence of his arousal and begging for sucking. A tight, large sac hung heavily underneath, filled with his seed; she was betting it was as soft as butter to the touch.

Every bit of her Irish was built for pleasure, she realized. He was so gorgeous it hurt to look at his perfection, in fact. She knew she had a very pretty body, but there was no denying that her lover was the epitome of lust. He was amazing to behold.

Reaching out with a trembling hand, she touched the wet tip of him, feathering across his warm flesh and imagining what it would feel like to have him in her mouth, gliding across her tongue. How much of him could she take in one swallow? She pulled away, afraid of losing control and sinking before him to her knees to find out.

Seamus was having none of that, however. He reached for her wrist and tugged her hand back towards him. "Touch me, love," he bid in a soft, gentle voice, his hand guiding her to fully grip him. "I need yer touch."

His thick meat weighed heavily in her palm as she wrapped her hand around him. Squeezing a bit, she was astonished to find that her fingertips didn't meet; his width was too great for her grip. Working together, they moved her hand up and down over every inch of his shaft, discovering this part of him that had always remained a mystery to her, despite having once known it quite intimately.

Brushing the hair from her cheek with his free hand, Sea tucked wayward strands back behind an ear in a loving caress. "Tha's it, Lavender. Own me pleasure," he whispered as he let go of her hand, allowing her free roaming access. Cupping her face, he kissed her in a sweet pull of lips. "Have me, love."

As she stroked up his solid length with increasing pressure, he groaned into her open mouth, his hands fisting through her hair to pull her closer. Uncrossing her legs, she opened them wide and he stepped into the space, the satin of her dress sliding away at the sides to give her knees freedom, as the cut allowed. A small dip of the fabric, her knickers, and his restraint were all that kept them from fucking right there, in truth.

He was dripping wet all over her fingers as she swiped the head back and forth, and used the fluid to create a gliding friction, priming him for orgasm. Following the rhythm she set, his hips began surging upwards to meet her downward pumping force, forcing her to slide over the entire length of him from tip to base. He hardened to solid proportions as his thrusts sped up, his excitement mounting. His hands moved from touching her to gripping the stool's back, granting him a more solid hold. His lips never left hers, though. Moans and gasps were drawn from him around their kisses, and under her free hand, she could feel his heart pounding.

"Oh, gods, angel! I'm gonna come soon! Ya _undo_ me, love," he panted, his voice a mix of pain and pleasure. "Yeah, that's it. Don't stop," he coaxed, and she felt all of the muscles under her fingers and against her body tighten up as he prepared to tumble over the edge. His grasp on the wooden stool creaked as the pressure of his hold increased. "Fuck… _fuck!_ Ah, Lavender!"

He exploded, throwing his head back with a cry. Hot spurts of sticky, white semen burst across the front of her dress and down their combined hands. He kept thrusting between the tight clasp of her fingers as his orgasm swept over him. She glanced down, watching another jet of cloudy-white come erupt from the darkened head. Seamus gasped, dropping his head forwards and pressing into the cradle of her neck and shoulder, his breath shuddering out of him in quick, hard exhalations as he kept releasing. It went on for several long seconds, until he was finally drained dry.

As soon as the eruption eased off, her partner slumped against her, panting like a hot animal against her throat. "I swear ta Heaven, woman, ye'll be the death o' me," he joked, leaning back, opening his lids and peeking at her through half-mast. "Tha' was the quickest I've ever come this way. I think tha' means I want ya bad." He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then her lips. "And I think I've made a mess o' yer pretty dress. Sorry, lass."

Wet satiny fabric against one's skin didn't feel right, so Lavender let her lover's tired cock go, and with an easy mental thought, conjured a towel. She wiped her hands and the front of her outfit clean, and then passed the cloth off to him. Thank goodness her wand was in the next room. These stains on her dress could be easily removed with a _Scourgify_. She'd just go get it…

…or not.

A very naughty idea occurred to her right then, and before she could lose the nerve, she wiggled about, pulling her dress up and over her head, and tossed it away.

Seamus' eyebrows hit the roof.

Giving him a sultry, "wait 'till you see what I've got in mind for you next," expression, she hopped off the stool and sauntered over to the table of fun goodies, making sure to put extra swing in her hips as she walked away. Her wizard gave her a playful wolf-whistle.

"Lass, ye'll make me go ta me knees if ye'll just sway about the room like that for a bit. Stones, I love yer legs!"

Reaching for the leather paddle, she picked it up, turned, and swung it into her palm, cracking it against the open flesh. "You talk too much, Sea. More action, less words." With a chin nudge, she indicated the archway. "Hold tight the velvet loops for me, lover."

Finnigan dropped the towel without further ado, made his way over to where she indicated, and looked up at the dangling velvet ropes with the hoop ends. Putting a hand through each side, he stood with his back to her, winding the sturdy velvet up around his wrists so that he was holding on to it, as well as captured by it.

Hot damn, but his backside was as delicious as the rest of him! In a few minutes, it would be charmingly blushing for her, too.

As she made her way to the front of him, she looked him over from head to toe. Even exhausted, his manhood was exquisite. She couldn't wait to be given the opportunity to taste him someday. She hoped the cards gave her that chance tonight.

"Here's how this is going to work," she smiled up at him. "You gave me one question to ask you every round and promised me truth, right?"

He nodded. "That I did."

"So, I'm going to ask you my question now, and instead of alternating, I'll give you the opportunity to ask me any one thing, too – to make it fair," she explained, and slapped the paddle into her palm again. It sounded like a painful slap, but the way she couched it against her flesh when it fell, it didn't hurt at all. "If you refuse to answer, we'll get down to the paddling. But if you answer the question honestly" -she ghosted into his personal space and rubbed her fingers over his cock with a very light scrape of nails. It jerked in response- "I'll get you off again. Would you like that?"

His cheeks were dusky-hued and his eyes sparkled with the promise of delicious wickedness to come her way soon. Licking his lips, he answered her. "I'd love it if ya were ta go down on me with yer mouth, but I'll take those wicked hands o' yers in a pinch, too. Either way, yeah, I want ya to bring me again, angel."

Throwing him a naughty smile was all the warning she gave him before cupping his testicles and rolling the soft, sensitive skin against her palm. His reaction was immediate - his spine arched and a low groan of longing escaped his lips. His flaccid member stretched and hardened against the inside of her wrist. Not taking her eyes from his, she stroked him back to life, licking her fingers twice to taste his essence. He was honey-sweet with a zest of salt; it was delicious and she hummed in approval.

"We'll see, Sea."

With that, she walked around behind him, and stroked every firm angle and curve of his back, buttocks, hips, and thighs. "Where's the most daring place you've ever had sex?"

Her boy-toy snickered. "Angel, ya'd be shocked if I told ya."

Licking a straight line path up the back of his neck made him shiver. "So, shock me, my sexy Irish," she whispered in his ear. "I'm dying to know your secrets."

His head tilted a bit and he huffed a laugh. "Ya asked for it: Snape's office, right on his desk."

Sucking in air, she came around to the front of him. "You did not!" she challenged with a wide grin, tickled pink by the very idea. "With whom?"

Seamus chuckled. "Tha's two questions."

Waving him off, she giggled. "So, ask me two, but I've got to know!"

"Morag," he confessed. "And I'll even throw ya a freebie – Valentine's Day." He shrugged those massive shoulders. "I figured that it was me last chance ta stick it ta the ol' sour. MacDougal agreed. An' since we were both single at the time, it seemed like somethin' fun ta do. Nothing serious."

She shook her head and patted him on the head with great fondness. "Congratulations! You're the most outrageous person I know."

Her beau waggled his eyebrows. "I can be a whole lot more interestin', if ya want." He tipped forward the few inches between them and placed a quick smooch on her lips. "My turn ta ask ya. How about the same two questions?"

Heat crept up Lavender's cheeks. "I haven't been very experimental in that way," she admitted. "I guess the most bizarre place would have been…" She paused, biting her lip, unsure if she should tell the truth in this case.

On the one hand, if she told him this secret, he'd know about her time spent in Blaise Zabini's bed. She and the sexy Slytherin had an unspoken understanding about keeping their past sexual liaisons hush-hush. No one knew about them, at least, not from her mouth, anyway. She'd kept the truth from everyone – including Parvati – not wanting rumours to spread. She'd be violating that non-verbal trust if she were to confess now. Zabini had been a good, patient lover and teacher the few times they'd been together, and he'd engendered a certain amount of loyalty in her for that. It didn't feel right to speak about him as if he'd simply been a conquest to hang her hat upon.

And strangely, she didn't feel a compulsion to tell Sea this secret either, which struck her as odd, because she'd been under the belief that the cards would force her to speak the truth always during this game. Maybe it only worked if it was a card that compelled you to answer, and not just when you were exchanging unprompted conversations between players?

Still, on the other hand, she'd gotten herself into this fix by offering him a secret for a secret, and he'd been honest with her so far in the game, even if the truth had hurt something fierce. She owed him that much back. Besides, she was trying to work on a relationship with Sea. She shouldn't start them off on this second chance with a lie, as that would be not only wrong, but disrespectful to the man. If he found out the truth later, it would be even worse. Withholding the truth was the same as lying, she knew all too well.

Taking a deep breath, she made the tough choice and took the plunge.

"The Slytherin dormitories."

Seamus was quiet for a bit, as if it hadn't occurred to him that she'd been with anyone other than Ron and him. Refusing to meet his eyes, she stared instead at the tattoo of the four-leaf clover on his upper right bicep.

"Who?"

There was a decidedly dark undertone to his question, and it made Lavender's earlier good mood dissolve into tiny, uneven fragments. Letting out a big puff of air, she swallowed hard, her stomach tumbling end over end under her skin.

"Blaise Zabini."

The temperature in the room suddenly plummeted.

"Fuck."

Glancing up in shock at the pain she heard in his disappointed tone, Lavender took a step back. "Why should it matter? It was last November. Like you said, it was something fun to do, and it was nothing serious."

He glanced at the paddle in her hands in displeasure. "At least now I know where ya found out how ta use that."

"Are you judging me?" she asked, incredulous. "Mister I've Fucked Everyone, _including_ their mothers - literally?"

Seamus closed his eyes and leaned his head down. "You're right, I know. It's not me right ta…" He stopped, bit back what he was about to say. "It's just that the guy's good at beddin' either sex."

Lavender's surprise could not have been more acute. "You're kidding. You're jealous because of his status as a proficient switch-hitter? But you're not even into men!"

Her partner's rumbling growl of frustration stopped her from launching into laughter at the notion. Good Godric, he was serious!

With tightly pursed lips, he glanced up at her. "Listen, when it was just Ron, and I knew ya were toppin' him… he's me friend, so I knew ya were in good hands. I knew he wouldn't try ta hurt ya, and that he was basically harmless, especially since neither o' ya seemed serious. But Zabini-" He swallowed, looking suddenly very vulnerable. "Dontcha see? He's a_ master _at fucking. I've seen him at work, remember?" He looked away, blood flooding his cheeks.

Like a light switch turned on, Lavender suddenly understood. "You think he gave me what you couldn't."

Clenching his jaw, frowning, her wizard stared at the far wall. "I'm bettin' he made ya come hard enough ta float on air for days, yeah?" Now he looked at her, and he was clearly angry. "Didn't he? He made ya scream with pleasure, I'm sure."

Lavender said nothing. What could she say? It was true. Zabini had worked her good those three times they'd been together, and he'd been the one who'd taught her all about Doms and subs, and how to spank and paddle. He'd tied her up and blindfolded her, and did all sorts of naughty things to her that had been wonderful. But in the end, it had just been shagging for both of them. He hadn't wanted anything more serious with her, and she'd realized after their third time together that she didn't care for his leanings, which tended to put her more in the sub position in bed. They'd separated amicably. She carried no ill-will for the man.

Abruptly, this game stopped being fun. It had, in fact, taken on a tone she wasn't comfortable with any longer.

"I don't want to play anymore," she murmured, looking at the paddle in her hands and feeling an infinite sorrow grip her chest. "I think… we'll only end up hurting each other at this rate. And I… I find I don't want to hurt you, Sea. I think it would ruin me. I'm sorry, but that's the truth."

She moved past him, put the paddle down on the table, and went to gather her clothes. Maybe this had all been a mistake. Maybe she and Sea couldn't work through their pasts, and it was better just to move on and let it go, no matter how the thought made her heart squeeze with pain.

Quick as a flash, Seamus was out of his restraints and had her in his arms, his mouth slamming down on hers in desperation. "Don't go, love, please!" he begged, his mouth enticing her to stay with expert kisses that stole her breath. "Not now when we've just come back ta each other again. _Please_, don't give up. I'm sorry fer bein' a jealous fool."

To her surprise, she was being laid back into a soft mattress; apparently, Sea had conjured a bed of some sort for them with a mere thought. He continued kissing her like it was the end of all things, his big, naked body pressing into her barely clothed one. The heat of his skin, the scent of his arousal and natural musk, the taste of his tongue worked in tangent to seduce her.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me, Lavender," he whispered over and over in that lilt that drove her into the realm of panting idiocy.

"Seamus," she gasped around his kisses, "I don't want us to hurt each other anymore. If we keep going… Don't you see? We can't-"

"Can," he growled, cutting her off, refusing her attempts to bow out. "I'm not lettin' ya go tha' easy."

His efforts to win her agreement to stay with him ramped up a notch as he thrust his tongue in and out of her mouth in a coaxing rhythm that mimicked the rocking motion he'd established with his hips between her thighs just then. Her body answered, blooming and opening, readying itself for sex.

For him.

"Lavender," he breathed in her ear as his mouth dipped to her throat to suckle. "Yer me angel. Me love. Dontcha know?"

Oh, Godric, he meant it, didn't he? That wasn't just a nickname, as she'd assumed. He really was falling in love with her, wasn't he?

Jesus, there would be no leaving him this time, would there? It would not be as easy as walking out the door where this wizard was concerned, for now she knew that he would follow her. He'd meant what he'd said to her earlier: he wanted her back in his life, and he would do whatever it took to assure that happened. This was no casual fling for Seamus.

Was it for her, though?

As she tasted his kiss and lay in his arms she knew unequivocally, no. Where Seamus was concerned, her feelings could never be casual. He'd been her first love, and it was precisely as he'd said: they'd never forgotten each other, despite the time and various lovers between them. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to let go of him, honestly, even if they didn't end up together in the future. A part of her would always linger here, with him, holding her to these memories.

Which meant she was rightly screwed, because now there was only one course for her to take.

She felt the stinging heat of her tears as they prickled her eyes and coursed down her cheeks. "Seamus, look at me," she requested, cupping his cheeks and bringing him around so they could meet each other's gaze head-on. This was one thing her Gryffindor heart would not cower from any longer. "Neither of us can undo the past, but we can try for a future. I'm fully willing to do that, if you want. I… I'll be your girl. Again. You… you still want that, right?"

It took a second or two for her offer to sink in, but then Seamus' smile broke through the grey confusion of the moment, lighting up his face with happy surprise; he looked like he'd just found a leprechaun's pot of gold at the end of a double rainbow. "More than anythin'." He smoothed strands of wayward hair off her cheek. "Me girl. Finally."

They kissed until their lips hurt to seal the deal. They were really close to chucking all their clothes and humping like bunnies, too, when the chimes rang out.

At the tinkling sound signaling the end of the round, both of them froze, looked at each other, the question in their eyes of equal sincerity.

Lavender had an impish idea. "I never paddled you." She summoned a paddle to her hand and smacked him lightly on the bum with it, and then put it down. "Maybe next round I'll get another chance?"

Gripping her hand, he brought it to his cock and wrapped their hands together around it. "And ya never got me off again, either. Guess we'll definitely have ta wait 'til next round, yeah?"

She stroked him a few times, rubbing his tip against her clothed crotch. "Or maybe you'll get to do something else to me instead."

He groaned. "Angel, let's just stay. Forget this bloody game."

Shaking her head, she let him go and squirmed out from under him. "Not a chance, Finnigan. I'm looking forward to getting something better next time around. I expect you to pleasure me but good. If we stay, we'll just have sex."

"Make love," he reminded her with that one again, raising an eyebrow in defiance of any dispute from her over that terminology, insofar as the two of them were concerned.

She grinned, conceding to the idea that when it happened, it would be done with love. "You want it? You'll have to work for it, my sexy Irish." Tossing her ruined dress over her head, she _tsk'd_ as she looked at his come staining the front of her abdominal area as it settled back over her form; it was still slightly damp. "And you're going to clean this as soon as we get our wands."

Struggling back into his clothes, Seamus grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

When they were both ready to return to the "real world," Seamus took her hand and lead them out. At the couches, he grabbed his wand and cleaned her up - to the amused mocking commentary provided by Pansy and Ron, who were running about the place like loons in love.

Settling back into the couch, Sea man put his arms around her and held her tight, whispering very softly in her ear how he planned to lick her all over as soon as he was allowed. She prayed hard to every deity she could think of that they got one of _his _cards next round. Then he could put his money where he mouth was, as Parvati was so fond of saying about overly-amorous men.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Switch-hitter = slang for a bi-sexual.**

**.**

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Twisted" by Carrie Underwood. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**Baby, you're a wreckin' ball**_  
_**crashin' into me.**_  
_**Nothin' I can do but fall.**_  
_**Piece by piece,**_  
_**you broke down every part of me**_  
_**that ever thought I'd never need you, baby.**_

_**It's twisted, **_  
_**messed up,**_  
_**and the more I think about it…**_  
_**It's crazy, **_  
_**but so what?**_  
_**I may never understand it.**_  
_**I'm caught up and I'm hangin' on.**_  
_**I'm gonna love you even if it's wrong.**_

_**Everybody's tellin' me**_  
_**I'm over my head.**_  
_**If they don't feel you lovin' me**_  
_**they all say that I've gone crazy.**_  
_**Maybe, but it's too late now to save me.**_  
_**I'm too tangled.**_

_**It's twisted, **_  
_**messed up,**_  
_**and the more I think about it…**_  
_**It's crazy, **_  
_**but so what?**_  
_**I may never understand it.**_  
_**I'm caught up and I'm hangin' on.**_  
_**I'm gonna love you even if it's wrong.**_  
_**Even if it's twisted!**_

_**Maybe it's not right,**_  
_**but that's all right.**_  
_**Yeah, it's all right… tonight.**_

_**It's twisted, **_  
_**messed up,**_  
_**and the more I think about it…**_  
_**It's crazy, **_  
_**but so what?**_  
_**I may never understand it.**_

_**It's twisted, **_  
_**messed up,**_  
_**and the more I think about it…**_  
_**It's crazy, **_  
_**but so what?**_  
_**I may never understand it.**_  
_**I'm caught up and I'm hangin' on.**_  
_**I'm gonna love you even if it's wrong.**_  
_**Even if it's twisted!**_

_**Even if it's just a little bit…**_  
_**Just a little bit…**_  
_**Just a little bit twisted.**_  
_**Yeah, it's twisted. **_  
_**Yeah.**_


	27. Chapter 5D: Harry & Tracey

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER**__**: **__User __**CeriseAnouk **__recommended the song, __**"**_** Like You'll Never See Me Again**_** " by Alicia Keyes **__for Harry & Tracey this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Tracey's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**CeriseAnouk**__ - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – Are you getting tired yet of hearing how fabulous you are? I hope not, because I – and the readers to this story – would like to continually thank you for all of your hard work beta-ing for all of us!

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter?**

**

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**CHAPTER FIVE ( #4): Harry & Tracey**

Harry was a few steps behind Tracey when they reached the door to their private realm. He stopped as she reached for the knob and looked over to his right to watch as Hermione Granger entered the room she shared with Draco Malfoy, an odd look of concern coming over his face.

"Harry?" she prompted, worried by his fierce expression. "Is everything all right?"

Blinking, he gave her his undivided attention then. "What? Oh, yes. It's just… Malfoy said the oddest thing."

Tracey leaned against the door, preventing them from entering yet, wondering on an appropriate course of action. "In the bathroom, you mean?"

He dark-haired wizard nodded. "I think…"

The sound of the other doors all clicking shut made him suddenly realize that they had yet to enter their room, and were, in fact, dead last this time. "It's not important. Let's focus on us, right?" His expression changed in an instant, becoming something akin to devious. "Wait out here for a second, all right?" he asked, then positioned her away from the door and slipped inside the room. "Be right back."

Now, what was that man doing? He was so unpredictable – she'd been watching him for seven years, and thought she'd known all about him by now!

Seconds ticked by, and then the door opened again. "Close your eyes," he bid. "I have a surprise for you."

Smiling, but trusting him implicitly, Tracey did as requested, and Harry took her card from her hands, shuffled a bit with it, and then laced his fingers with hers, leading her forwards into the room. As soon as she stepped in, the scent of fresh flowers permeated her nose, instantly uplifting her. Beaming brightly, she knew what he had done – he'd conjured a bouquet for her. How utterly charming!

"Okay, open your eyes."

Explosive rainbow color covered all four of the walls (minus the fireplace, of course) as a veritable bouquet of flowers – all tulip varietals, specifically – had been conjured and arranged to act as the wallpaper. With a cursory glance, it seemed that no two species were alike, either. There were too many to count – hundreds and hundreds literally. They were positively stunning.

"Oh, my," she stammered, her heart thumping a million miles a second under her breast. "How… Oh, Harry, it's… _it's wonderful!_"

Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms about her and nuzzled her hair. "Don't you just love magic?" he murmured, placing a kiss on her throat.

_I love __you_, she thought, relaxing into his embrace and snuggling back. "Thank you so much." She giggled then. "You certainly do things big, don't you, Mr. Potter?"

Slyly moving himself around her body, keeping them connected, he faced her head-on, one hand moving into her hair to hold on tight and pull her in. A seductive smile overtook his handsome features. "I'm wooing you, Miss Davis. I'm supposed to do things big to impress you." He leaned close. "Now say I can kiss you or I'm going to _burst_ big."

Snickering, she wrapped her arms about him. "You can kiss me. Can I kiss you?"

He nodded as he dove in. "Hell, yes."

Their lips met with fire and electricity, and both of them moaned as they quickly impassioned the kiss, sliding tongues together, stroking each other in fervent passing. Tracey's thoughts melted away into pleasant feeling, and she trusted Harry to hold her up as she leaned into him fully. He did her one better… his hands sliding under her bum, he lifted her up and carried her over to their comfortable sofa, which he'd changed with a thought into a wide, velvet lounging chaise instead. Laying her back into the cushioned seat, he slid in from the side and leaned over her, his mouth doing magical things to her senses.

Hands wandering up and down his spine, she moved a little too fast and sliced a finger on something sharp. With an "ouch!" she abruptly pulled out of the kiss and brought her hand around to look at the cut, which was already welling with blood. It was very small, only a paper cut, and no big deal, but before she could say a thing, Harry took her finger, examined it, then sat up and conjured a bandage, which he placed over her tiny, insignificant wound with great care.

"What's in your back pocket?" she asked, for that was where she'd accidentally done the damage.

Reaching back, he pulled out their cards. "You must've sliced yourself on the edge of one of the cards." He glanced at them, a frown on his face and ran his own finger over the entire outside of the playing cards. "They don't seem sharp, though. Weird."

Tracey shrugged it off. "I probably just moved past them at the right angle and speed. I'm klutzy like that on occasion." Reading them upside down, she could see that the top one was not hers:

_**DEED: You partner must kneel before you and perform any three tasks you want, responding with 'Yes, Your Highness,' to your commands.**_

"Oh, my," she exhaled deep and giggled. "Who came up with that one, do you suppose?"

Harry chuckled darkly. "One of your teammates. I've read all of Gryffindor's cards, and this isn't from any of my friends." He winked at her in good-natured teasing. "My team swapped out so we could know what to expect."

Tracey faux gasped. "Why, Mr. Potter, I do believe that is called cheating!"

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "I'd prefer to think of it as being prepared for the worst."

They both burst out into laughter. "How very… Slytherin of you," she playfully kissed him on the cheek. "Read mine."

Flipping his card behind the other, his face lost its smile in an instant and he swallowed heavily at what he found written:

_**FORFEIT: Do a seductive strip tease down to your knickers for your partner.**_

His eyes burned with luminous heat as he glanced up at her. "I think I'll need to thank the person who wrote this one up later."

Tracey gave him her best 'wicked smile' (the one she'd secretly been practicing for years in mirrors to try to get the hang of being 'mysterious' and such). "Or, you could thank me now in advance."

The cards fluttered from his suddenly still grasp and fell between them. "_You_ wrote that?"

Wrapping her arms boldly about his neck, feeling rather frisky, Tracey placed her lips over his and stared at him through half-lids. "Guilty."

With a groan of longing, he threw himself back into a snog-out with her that last several minutes. The only reason they surfaced was because they had to breathe. Every nerve in Tracey's body was alive with humming excitement and pleasure by the time their mouths separated. Nuzzling against her neck, Harry sighed in contentment. "Did I tell you how _really_ glad I am that I drew your name?"

Leaning her mouth over his ear, she decided to get them focused back on the game, for truthfully, she was restlessly looking forward to taking her dress off for him. She'd chosen her best, most sexy lingerie to wear tonight (a gift to herself this last Christmas, using her own money that she'd earned from last summer's dancing talent competition in her hometown), and was eager to show it off to her man. It would be the most daring thing she'd ever done in her life, but she wanted to do it for him – for them both. "Once, I believe," she whispered right against his lobe. "But I wouldn't mind hearing it again before we get started on the cards."

Snuffing in astonished excitement, he leaned down and kissed her neck with seductive intent, biting softly over her pulse. "I am _so_ glad that I got you for my partner, Tracey." Lips smoothing up and around her throat, he made his way back over her jaw to her lips again. "You're everything I've ever wanted. Do you feel the same way? Will you be my girl?"

Sighing in happiness, she smiled around his kisses. "Yes, absolutely. To both."

Leaning her back into the chaise, Harry proceeded to kiss her like their lives depended upon it. Butterflies fluttered in her heart and belly, and her toes curled when his hand left her hair and trailed downward to cup her breast and knead gently. "Is this okay?" he asked in between soft French kisses. "Touching you again?"

It was Tracey's turn to sniff in amusement. "Touch me all you want, Harry. Anywhere."

He moaned against her skin and trembled against her with what she knew to be barely-controlled need. "Tracey…" The sounds he made, and the knowledge that she could undo this great wizard so easily shot straight through her spine to her womb, settling in with liquid warmth. "We should stop, and… the cards…" he tried to explain, even as his mouth trailed a hot path over her throat and shoulder, as he slipped the strap of her dress down, revealing the top of her purple and black lace bra.

"Do you want to go first?" she offered, trying to focus around the haze of her desire. Already, her pretty knickers were damp.

With a groan, Harry pushed himself up onto the palms of his hands, obviously trying to do the right thing and move away. "The game… that's right…" Immediately, his verdant gaze was drawn to the spill of her revealed flesh, and became intensely searing. "Merlin, that is so sexy."

Feeling more beautiful in that moment than she ever had in her life, watching as Harry struggled against his desire for her, Tracey felt the woman within once more come to life, stretch out and slink to the surface with bold intention. "Harry, command me as your card requires," she huskily bid. "I'm yours to do with as you will… Your Highness." With that, she wiggled out from under him and got down on the floor on her knees, bowing her head in supplication.

"Oh. My. God," Harry breathed in eager surprise. "This is like some… serious wet dream."

Tracey bit her bottom lip to keep from giggling, reminding herself to keep in character as the willing slave girl that his card required. Truthfully, the very idea of serving his every sexual need turned her on more than anything else in the game had thus far. "What will you have of me, Your Highness?"

Pulling air through his teeth, he clicked his tongue once. "Why don't you perform your card first, and I'll ask you to do things after? Give me a few minutes to come up with something good."

"As you wish," she automatically replied and stood. "Would you like to choose the music for me to disrobe to?"

Sitting on the edge of the chaise, Harry looked up at the ceiling, considering. Muggle music once more came out of thin air, this time with a sultry beat, kept by both the deep rumble of a plucked bass and the snapping of fingers. Elvis Presley's smooth voice came from out of the ether.

_**Never know how much I love you.  
Never know how much I care.  
When you put your arms around me,  
I get a fever that's so hard to bear.  
You give me fever!  
**_

"Dance for me, my witch," he appealed.

Closing her eyes, Tracey reached for that calm that came whenever she faced off in a competition, pushing aside her nervousness, knowing that this was something she was born to do. Feeling the beat in her heart and through her spine, she began swaying her hips in a passionate, gyrating motion.

_**When you kiss me…  
Fever when you hold me tight…  
Fever!  
In the morning.  
Fever all through the night.**_

Opening her eyes, pulling the invisible guise of a courageous lioness over herself, she exaggerated a sexy walk towards her man, focusing on those emerald eyes that she'd fallen in love with years ago. With every step she mentally made the commitment: _you're mine, I'm yours_.

Harry's face and body went very still, as if he could hear her very thoughts, and then the slightest hint of a wicked smile crawled up his cheek and he nodded in silent agreement.

_**Sun lights up the daytime.  
Moon lights up the night.  
I light up when you call my name,  
And you know I'm gonna treat you right.  
You give me fever!  
**_

Reaching out, Tracey ran her fingers through that thick, black hair, continuing to move her whole body sinuously like a snake charming its prey. Rotating her hips in graceful, languorous circles, she mimicked how she'd love to ride his body.

Unable to keep his hands to himself, Harry reached out to grip her waist, but she skimmed out of his hold just as he tightened his grip to capture her.

_**When you kiss me…  
Fever when you hold me tight…  
Fever!  
In the morning.  
Fever all through the night.**_

Lifting a single finger, she waggled it in wordless chastisement, throwing him a sinful smile. "Not yet," she whispered. Running her hands from her waist up her body, cupping her breasts, she challenged him with a toss of her head. "Watch me dance for you, Harry."

Her hands continued a leisurely glide up, over her throat and into her long hair, pulling it up through her hands in an enticing manner, even as her pelvis continued to revolve in an enchanting manner.

_**Everybody's got the fever -  
That is something you well know.  
Fever isn't such a new thing.  
Fever started long ago.**_

"You're so beautiful," her boyfriend complimented sincerely, licking his lips as his eyes unhurriedly roamed her body from top to bottom. "I want to tear that off of you so I can finally see you."

Emboldened by his reaction, Tracey ran her hands in a path back down to her waist, she continued that lithe, side-winding motion as she reached behind her and began pulling down the zipper of her dress. The noise somehow added to the sexiness of the song, as if it were another musical instrument added to coerce the mood. "Good things come to those who wait," she tempted him.

When the zipper met its end at the sway of her back, she moved around to the front of her body and ran her hands down her thighs and back up, gathering her courage for the next part…

_**Romeo loved Juliet,  
Juliet she felt the same.  
When he put his arms around her,  
He said, "Julie, baby you're my flame…  
Now give us fever!"  
**_

"Bloody hell," Harry hissed in mounting excitement, his whole attention affixed upon her, an obvious bulge appearing in the front of his dark slacks. His chest rising and falling with growing excitement, he gripped the edge of the cushion with both hands tight, his grip knuckle-white. "Take your dress off for me, honey."

Slipping one shoulder strap down, then the other, Tracey slowly peeled the dress off, holding the fabric close, revealing only a bit of flesh at a time. As she reached her waist, Harry's face was flushed with need and his eyes shimmered with heat. "All the way off," he growled low. "Show me."

_**When we kissith;  
Fever with thy flaming youth.  
Fever!  
I'm on fire!  
Fever, yea, I burn for sooth.**_

Letting the dress drop to the floor, Tracey stood before her partner in nothing but her lingerie and heels. Unfettered at last by the constricting dress, she began moving unreservedly, letting her body take her where it may.

Twirling away from the fabric, giving herself some space to express her feelings, she danced then as she never had before - Allegro free spin, quick Arabesque, improvise front walk-over to change position, widely sweeping de Côté to the right, Attitude en pointe, dégagé, fouetté en tournant_,_ dégagé, transitional improvise into a slow, solo rendition of Kaoma's sexy, tantalizing Lambada.

Twirling her hips, swaying her shoulders, she flung her hair about and whirled with polished exactness, nimble and elegant in her turns, keeping to the beat, giving her very soul over to Harry in the dance.

_**Captain Smith and Pocahontas  
Had a very mad affair.  
When her daddy tries to kill him,  
She said, "Daddy, oh, don't you dare!  
He gives me fever.  
**_

Gazing over at her partner, Tracey noted that Harry seemed completely enamored of her.

But she hadn't even gotten to the truly deviant stuff yet…

Conjuring a metal pole before her, she turned her attention to utilizing this new prop. She'd used such a support once during a competition, but that had been benign, regulation dance. This… this was something else entirely. This was impious, shameless inspiration unleashed at last, all of her greatest fantasies set free as her body glided up and down the pole, as she altered known dance steps to invent a choreography that was all about pure sex.

_**With his kisses…  
Fever when he holds me tight…  
Fever!  
I'm his missus.  
Daddy, won't you treat him right?"**_

Harry's eyes burned into hers as she lifted one long leg, wrapped it around the pole and proceeded to bend backwards until her head touched her calf.

"Holy cats," he murmured, and his hand moved to the front of his trousers to slowly stroke his erection over his clothes. When Tracey righted herself (in an equally slow pace, showing the strength in her stomach and back muscles), she slid up and down the pole twice, then turned to face him, her arms bracing herself on the metal as she widened her stance and knelt with leisurely grace, giving him a wanton invitation to look between her legs.

_**Now, you've listened to my story.  
Here's the point that I have made:  
Cats were born to give chicks fever,  
Be it Fahrenheit or Centigrade,  
We give you fever!  
**_

"Take your bra off for me," he commanded as she slid downward, his eyes shaded with barely contained lust.

Balanced only on the strength of her ankles and a trained center of gravity, Tracey reached for her corset's clasp, and easily undid it for him. "Yes, Your Highness," she stated, kneeling on the floor now. With a tug on both sides, she freed her breasts from their captivity, tossing her bra to the side. A part of her thought she should be blushing, feeling terribly exposed, but the siren within her was feeling particularly uninhibited just then, and so it was without any embarrassment she bent backwards again, thrusting her eager nipples to the sky, giving Harry an excellent view.

"Oh, Merlin almighty!" he swore.

_**When we kiss you,  
Fever, if you live and learn.  
Fever!  
Till you sizzle…  
What a lovely way to burn.**_

Whipping forward quickly, slinging all of that hair over her head, Tracey pressed her face to the floor, arms stretched before her in a slave's worship of her master. Looking up through the curtain of her golden mane, she smiled wildly and shamelessly and began crawling towards Harry in a decidedly predatory manner.

Her wizard licked his lips again and the hand over his covered erection gave another hard stroke over his pants.

Reaching his knees, Tracey dragged herself up his body, staying on her knees, but raised enough to give him access to her body, should he wish to touch. "What else do you wish of me, Your Highness?"

_**What a lovely way to burn…**_

"Take the rest off," he commanded in a deep, precise tone, darkness shadowing his handsome features.

_**What a lovely way to burn…**_

"I want you naked, Tracey."

_**What a lovely way to burn!**_

This time, _she_ licked her lips. "Yes, Your Highness."

With as much grace as possible, she made her feet, her mid-section now on par with Harry's face. With flirtatious inspiration, she hooked her fingers into the sides of her knickers, had a moment for her heart to slam under her ribs in terror – this was the first time a man would see her fully nude – and then she began dragging her panties down her thighs, revealing herself to his scorching stare.

When she came into his full view, and her intimates fell to the ground around her ankles, her boyfriend's mouth dropped open a fraction of an inch. "Sweet Jesus." Unconsciously, he lifted a hand to feel her, but stopped just shy of his goal and quickly looked up at her. "Can I touch you, honey?"

Tracey nodded, swallowing back her own nervousness, trusting that he wouldn't hurt her. "I already said, anywhere you want, Harry."

With infinite tenderness, he ran his fingers through her golden curls, learned the feel of her shape. "You're stunning… everywhere," he remarked, letting his other hand slide up her waist to cup her right breast. His fingers slid over her beige-pink nipple, bringing it into prominence with a single swipe, while below, he explored her full lips. Nudging a finger between her slit, he traveled her from top to bottom, causing Tracey to shiver uncontrollably. "Oh, man… you're so wet." He brought that finger up to his nose and inhaled, then licked it.

Something snapped in that one small act. With a groan of reckless need, Harry grabbed her waist, and pulled her down onto his lap, making her straddle him. Thrusting his mouth onto hers, he kissed her with aching passion, as his hands continued their torment of her sensitive body. His fingers below found that tiny nub of flesh at the top of her vulva and teased over it. "Oh, _OH!_" she cried out, grabbing onto his arms for support as her man relentlessly exploited his new find.

The hand that had been tempting her nipple suddenly pinched it, not too hard, but with enough pressure to make things below moisten exponentially. "Oh… mmmm…" she hummed, around the thrusting of his tongue, digging her nails into his shoulders. Her gasps grew in volume as he continued to caress her clitoris, stimulating it just perfectly. When one finger entered her from below, she cried out at the exquisite pleasure of such a feeling.

Harry paused, but then he seemed to relax marginally, as if the urgency of his need had been forcibly calmed somewhat. "You're so tight."

For a minute, Tracey panicked. Could he know her secret just by touching her like this? Her own knowledge of feminine things was severely limited to what she'd heard spoken about in whispers by other females around school and in the health class she'd had to take with Madam Pomfrey (her mother had never been comfortable enough to speak to her about such things). Was it possible that he could somehow feel that she was still untouched?

Before anymore could be said (or thought, for that matter), Harry began to move the single digit in and out of her with deliberate, unhurried measure.

Primal instincts were instantly awoken, and the seductress within called for Tracey to move her hips and thighs in a brazen manner to meet each one of Harry's delicate, delicious thrusts, even as their mouths and tongues mimicked the act in perfect rhythm. Closing her eyes, Tracey gave herself over to the hedonistic feelings he roused. Her wizard was making love to her with his hands and mouth, _finally!_

"That's it," he coaxed in her ear in a low, throaty tone as she began instinctively moving against him. "Move your hips, love. Up and down, just like that." He hummed in approval and bit her throat gently, causing her to convulse with undisciplined need. "Slow a little. That's right. Let me bring you slow and easy."

Mewling in appeal, imploring for deeper penetration, for quicker movements, Tracey gripped her lover's biceps with force. "Harry…" she fretted against his lips when he pressed another kiss onto her. "That feels _so_ good. _Please,_ don't stop."

"I won't," he promised, and to her surprise, laid his thumb against her tiny, pearl nub, rubbing it in circles as he continued to glide his finger back and forth inside her. "I want you to come for me, honey."

She nodded. "Yes… Your Highness," she remembered at the last second, realizing that this was his final requirement to fulfill the cards. Instead of her servicing his pleasure with his three wishes, he'd done just the opposite and gifted this last opportunity to her. She knew she loved him for good reason! "Oooh," she moaned, feeling her body electrify from tip to toe, straining, reaching for elusive fulfillment. "I… need more." Opening her lids, she looked at him, unable to articulate what it was she was searching for; just knowing that something lay just beyond her reach that her body was desperate to have. "_Please,_ Harry."

He kissed a trail down her chest to her breast and took her left nipple deep into the cavern of his wet mouth, suckling on her with pressure. The hand that had been caressing her chest reached up and fisted her hair, tilting her head back with force, bending her back to give him easy, full access. The move was so blatantly, sensuously masculine - a claiming of sorts - that it made Tracey quake with longing. Continuing to ride his hand, her whole body thrummed on the brink of something marvelous and wild and entirely too wicked to be contained, and yet, she couldn't seem to achieve what she knew had to be an orgasm. Her nails dug deep into his shoulders as her frustration mounted, and Harry let out a groan in response.

As he bit her nip a little harder, her moan came from somewhere deep inside her constricting chest. Close… so close!

With a swipe of his thumb over her clit in a counter-clockwise motion, and a final lunge of his finger, Tracey felt her world fly apart on ecstasy-laden wings. Everything within her pulsed again and again, and behind her lids danced ribbons of color. "_OH, HARRY!_" she cried out, her body surrendering at last to its ultimate bliss. It was like nothing she'd ever known before – so beautiful and all-encompassing and shattering a sensation that it brought tears to her eyes and made her body tremble unreservedly in its passing. "Harry!" she called to the only person she wanted to share this with - the only one who could save her from feeling so terribly exposed, who could soothe her and make her feel not so vulnerable in this moment of full, open disclosure, and who would cushion her in his love and keep her safe in his arms. "Harry!"

Tenderly, her lover brought their mouths together again. Salty tracks burned down her cheeks as she clung to him with all her might, letting his lips ease her back into her own soul. When she calmed, he pressed his forehead to hers, having withdrawn his fingers from her body and now simply stroking her bare back with both hands. "Shhh… it's okay. I've got you."

Her breath relaxing, her emotions returning to a state of control, Tracey sniffed and wiped at her cheeks with slightly shaky fingers. "Sorry. I just… it felt _so_ lovely. It overwhelmed me."

He shook his head, and smiled at her sweetly. "You're a virgin, aren't you?"

Her heart stopped beating. One second, two…

Slytherin's soul, he knew!

The pulsating organ under her ribs rushed to catch back up with the body's demands, causing her chest to compress fast with breath. "I…" She stalled, unable to go on. How could she explain? Was he angry? This game, after all, was only supposed to be between experienced individuals; everyone knew that going in. What if he'd been expecting that she knew what to do and had wanted a woman already skilled in bedroom etiquette? What if he didn't like the fact she was a 'cherry' (as Pansy called it)?

"I could feel your… barrier… still in place," he explained gently. "And the things you've done and said all night finally make sense. Parkinson was right: you're really an innocent, aren't you?"

Eyes wide, she pursed her lips, scared that maybe he thought badly of her for not telling the truth about her level of qualification. "I didn't lie to get into the game," she hurriedly explained to cut off that route of thinking. "I overheard Pansy talking about the cards and the challenge to Daphne earlier this week. She mentioned that you were Captain for Gryffindor's team. I…" She bit her lip, looking down. "I approached her about letting me play then. She didn't ask me about my experience; I think she just assumed. So, I didn't really lie. I just didn't think it was any of her business how much… or how little, as the case may be… I knew about men."

Harry considered her in silence for a few seconds, and the whole while, Tracey's heart crawled up into her mouth, threatening to smother her very breath. "You were hoping we'd be partnered so you could give your virginity to me," he stated evenly.

Mortified by him speaking the truth aloud, she tried to wriggle out of his lap, wanting to just drag herself into a hole and die right then, but her wizard tightened his arms about her, holding her in place. "Don't be embarrassed, love. I'm… flattered," he tried to reassure her, forcing her to face him by cupping her cheek and turning it so they had to look at one another. "I think it's a beautiful idea. And I'm just really thankful it's worked out for us."

Her eyes watered. He wasn't mad? He wasn't going to ditch her and forfeit? Inside, her chest loosened up enough for her to breathe. "I was going to tell you, Harry, I swear it. It just… it seemed too soon. We'd only just gotten to know one another, and… I didn't expect us to get to anything like _this_ for a bit. I thought there would be time to… to ease into the discussion." She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I didn't mean to trick you."

Harry kissed her, feathering her cheek with his fingers. "I know, honey." He smoothly wiped the tears from the outside corners of her eyes. "Was that your first orgasm?"

Now that she had time to actually think about what they'd done, she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. It seemed oddly contradictory, given that she had been writhing around on the floor – and then _in his lap_ – just minutes ago. "Yes. First everything, Harry. First kiss, first touching, first… _that_," she indicated between her legs modestly.

His eyebrows shot up wide. "Really?" A huge grin beamed across his face. "That's… that's fecking awesome!"

Without warning, she was suddenly flipped onto her back in the cushions, and his hand was stroking her all up and down between her drenched lower lips again. Leaning down, he nipped her lower lip as she liked. "Let me make you come again like this," he hungrily purred against her mouth. Tracey's heart began pulsing to a quick beat as one finger quickly re-entered her. Without waiting for her permission, he bent his head and took her right nipple back between his teeth and suckled and bit teasingly, even as his hand moved in and out of her to that same slow rhythm as earlier.

Tracey was in heaven, relaxing into his embrace and letting him bring her again in a loving, soft way that had her floating on a cloud of brilliant wonderment, calling for him again with breathless joy. His arms came around her when it was over, and he held her to his skipping heart, and they were quiet, enjoying the afterglow.

As he helped her retrieve her clothing and re-dress, she winced at the slight soreness between her legs. It wasn't bad, just a small noticeable stretching; Harry assured her he hadn't broken her hymen though. Brushing her bangs from her eyes as they stood at the door, listening to the chimes ring out, he kissed her sweetly again.

"Are you sure you want to give me everything, if the cards require it?" he asked, quite sincerely. "Merlin knows, I _definitely_ want to make love to you, but we could wait. You're my girlfriend now, so I wouldn't mind forfeiting and just letting things happen slowly over time, if you feel we need to."

Tracey shook her head, leaning forward to kiss Harry with aching love. "Thank you for offering, but I don't want to wait anymore. I've waited years for a chance with you. I'm not going to waste it. I want to give you all of me." Pressing her nose to his, she smiled and giggled playfully. "Besides, then we can have sex anywhere we want to on the school premises before graduation next week. I've had this rather naughty fantasy for the last two years involving you, me and the Divination Tower, you see."

Harry let out a dark chuckle, reached for her hand and placed it over his steely-hard erection through his slacks. "The Divination Tower, hmmm? On a pile of pillows, I suppose?"

Nodding, she friskily, boldly stroked over his length, getting a feel for how big he was. "We could silence the room and cast an aphrodisiac charm for fun."

Her wizard blinked, looking confused. "How do you know about such things?"

Unzipping his trousers fast, she reached in and gripped him through his boxers. Harry groaned, jolted, and his penis twitched against her hand through the fabric. "Daphne shares a room with me, Pansy, and Millicent in the Slytherin girls dorms. She taught the spell to all of us one night this last year when we were up gossiping late." Tickling his length through the cotton with her fingernail, running up and down, she giggled again, feeling decidedly mischievous. "She guarantees it's good for two whole hours." She looked at him through her thick lashes. "What do you think, Harry?"

With a growl, he kissed her hard. "I say it's a date, mistress mine."

Letting him go and re-zipping him, she grinned like a cheeky monkey, their course settled in her mind. "Good, then when it's time, that's what we're doing here tonight."

With a thought, the room transformed itself into a replica of the Divination Tower, and there, in the middle of the circular area, was a pile of large, plush pillows.

"You'll have to give me new flowers next round it seems," she sighed impishly, noting that the tulips had all disappeared when the room altered its appearance. With a final kiss on his nose, she walked out.

She got exactly five steps before Harry had her in his arms again and, laughing in delight, they were kissing each other as if they were in love… which, for her, was no stretching of the truth. Would it be true for him soon, too?

_Please let it happen_, she prayed silently. _Let him love me someday as I love him._

_

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**TO BE CONTINUED...**

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**- Did you know that there are over 200 species of tulips in the world, and many more than that have been lost over time as they went extinct. This flower is truly the most beautiful of plants, with blooms that can come in any shape, size and color. It's no wonder the Dutch went mad for them in the 17****th**** century! **

- "**Fever" as sung by Elvis Presley is this chapter's interlude song (because it's my favorite version; I may be British, but I'll take Elvis anyday over The Beatles... I know, blasphemy!)**

**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Like You'll Never See Me Again," by Alicia Keyes. Lyrics are as follows…**

_**If I had no more time…  
No more time left to be here,  
Would you cherish what we had?  
Was it everything that you were looking for?**_

_**If I couldn't feel your touch,  
And no longer were you with me,  
I'd be wishing you were here,  
To be everything that I'd be looking for.**_

_**I don't wanna forget the present is a gift,  
And I don't wanna take for granted the time you may have here with me.  
'Cause Lord only knows another day is not really guaranteed.**_

_**So every time you hold me,**_  
_**Hold me like this is the last time.**_  
_**Every time you kiss me,**_  
_**Kiss me like you'll never see me again.**_  
_**Every time you touch me,**_  
_**Touch me like this is the last time.**_  
_**Promise that you'll love me,**_  
_**Love me like you'll never see me again.**_

_**How many really know what love is?**_  
_**Millions never will.**_  
_**Do you know until you lose it**_  
_**That it's everything that we are looking for?**_  
_**When I wake up in the morning,**_  
_**You're beside me,**_  
_**I'm so thankful that I found**_  
_**Everything that I been looking for.**_

_**I don't wanna forget the present is a gift,**_  
_**And I don't wanna take for granted the time you may have here with me.**_  
_**'Cause Lord only knows another day is not really guaranteed.**_

_**So everytime you hold me,**_  
_**Hold me like this is the last time.**_  
_**Every time you kiss me,**_  
_**Kiss me like you'll never see me again.**_  
_**(can you do that for me baby)**_  
_**Every time you touch me,**_  
_**(see we don't really know)**_  
_**Touch me like this is the last time.**_  
_**(see everyday we never know)**_  
_**Promise that you'll love me,**_  
_**(I want you to promise me)**_  
_**Love me like you'll never see me again.**_  
_**(like you'll never see me again)**_


	28. Chapter 5E: Theodore & Daphne

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**Star_Butterfly **__recommended the song, __**"**_**Near You Always**_**" by Jewel **__for Theodore & Daphne this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Daphne's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**Star_Butterfly**__ - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised! I've received a bunch so far, and they are YUMMY folks... check them out on my blog here in multiple postings this last week: _rzzmg. wordpress . com_**

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – "Oh, UL, you're so fine… you're so fine you blow our minds. Hey UL! Hey UL!" (This 80's flashback moment was brought to you by your adoring fans, who are continuously thankful for your wonderful beta work on this story, UL!)

P.S.S. I've been asked in various emails and PMs what each couple is supposed to learn by the end of this story, and I think the ultimate answer is the most basic foundation that all love is built upon: _trust_. As we all know, this is not necessarily something easily given – nor received – and wholly dependent upon the personalities and past experience of the people involved in the "trust transaction." I will say no more, as I don't wish to give away any plot development, but rest assured that every chapter revolves around that issue. Think on that as you read.

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter, folks?**

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**CHAPTER FIVE (#5): Theodore & Daphne**

Per their arrangement, as soon as the door shut behind them, Theo was stripping off his clothes and assuming the correct position on the Tantra Chair, where he awaited silently for Daphne's pleasure. Taking a moment for her own edification, she allowed her eyes to appreciate the naked curve of his back and buttocks. Her wizard was built like a stereotypical Quidditch Chaser (similar to Zabini) – broader of shoulder and bicep and thigh than a Seeker (like Malfoy and Potter), but not as burly as a Beater (like Finnegan) or a Keeper (like Weasley). His body was an interesting combination of trades, designed to alternate between the need for speed and the requirement for strength.

She could not wait to feel that muscle move over and around her when the time finally came…

Before then, however, she intended for him to tell her his real feelings for Hermione Granger.

The confrontation that had occurred in the main room between her beau and the Head Girl had dealt Daphne a strong dose of jealous pain. It wasn't the fact that Theo appeared to have had a past with Miss Granger that was the problem, so much as he seemed not yet emotionally over the witch. There was clearly unresolved sexual attraction between them, and that type of feeling was potentially damaging to any future relationship Daphne might want with her wizard. "Illuminate for me the nature of your relationship with Miss Granger," she bid, stepping towards him and sitting her bum on the taller hump of the chair, modestly keeping her legs to the side and closed. "I wish to know the sordid details."

Theo looked up at her with astonishment. "Sordid?" he snorted with cynicism. "Hardly anything to it. We made out a few times in Sixth Year. I wanted more. She was too frigid. I lost interest. The end."

Daphne watched his body language carefully, paying particular attention to the tightness around his eyes as he spoke. "Then perhaps you can explain to me why you were so affected by her answer earlier?"

He sighed, ran a hand in frustration through his hair. "It's just that…" His cheeks reddened as he confessed a truth that apparently had lain dormant in his heart for too long. "She's the only girl to ever tell me 'no.' I didn't… handle it well back then." He laughed derisively at himself. "Hell, I'm not handling it well now. Seeing her with Drake… she never looked at me like that. It just… stings… not just that she didn't want me, but that he's getting the one thing I never could." His smirk was bitter. "Like that's anything new, though."

Insight burst through Daphne's understanding. "Theo, I want you to look at me."

That blazing cerulean gaze met hers almost rebelliously, as if he were angry with her for her requirement of his obedience. In this case, she could certainly understand. Confronting a painful realization on your own was difficult enough, but sharing it with another was downright embarrassing, because it left you vulnerable. Fortunately, Daphne had done her share of facing her inner demons and could now aid Theo in doing likewise.

"Do you believe me when I tell you that I find you to be the most desirable man that I have ever known?" she asked, locking her gaze onto his and forcing him not to look away with the power of suggestion. "Enough so that I will be giving you my virginity during this game."

His eyes widened into saucers and his mouth gaped open. "Your virginity? But…"

"Although I have experienced the many joys of sexual fulfillment in a variety of ways, I have never had actual sexual intercourse with a man - though I have watched it intimately play out before me many, many times," she admitted. "And I have pleasured myself enough to rid the concern of my hymen, but I have not yet allowed a person to enter me." She took her reading glasses off and put them, along with her action card, on the small table nearby. "I plan for you to be the first man to come into me fully, in every way." Reaching down, she caressed his cheek. "I would never give myself in such a manner to Mr. Malfoy. Nor to Mr. Zabini, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Finnegan, or Mr. Potter. Only to _you_. Do you understand?"

He blinked several times, mulling over her words. "No, I don't. I mean… yes, I understand what you're _saying_, but… I don't understand why you would choose _me_."

She stood up, letting him go and looked down the length of her body at him. "You lack faith in yourself, in your ability to be a tremendous lover, and in the strong heart of the man that I see in you, and so you hold pieces of yourself back when you join with a woman. This is one of the reasons why sex for you has always been unfulfilling, beloved, and why you continually seek it out with many women, never fully able to give completely, and so never getting in return that which you need to feel whole." She bent at the waist, giving him a nice peek at her breasts as her dress dipped open at the throat. "Over the next several hours, I am going to give you the most gratifying sexual experiences you will have ever known, my Theo. I will teach you how to restrain your selfish impulses, and how to find unparalleled pleasure from such selfless discipline. I am going to give myself to you fully, as I never have to another, so that you may test and reveal your discoveries with me. This is my gift to you… because I believe _you_ to be a worthy man with whom I want to share such an unforgettable experience. No one else. Just you."

Theo's cheeks reddened and his eyes filled with unshed tears, but he turned his face away, refusing to look at her out of embarrassment. Daphne understood the reason for his emotional response to her offer, knowing what she did of him (from her years of intense observation and the perfecting of her ability to _listen_ and draw conclusions from the provided facts); she knew how all his life, his cruel father had never once told him he cared for him, how his mother's interests lay in her personal pursuits of material goods and never in her child's actual welfare, how Theo had always worked hard to achieve his goals, and yet struggled against people with such strong, natural talents (like Draco Malfoy), finding himself wanting in comparison, and most importantly, how no girl had ever said, 'I love you' to him. It was for these reasons that she did not judge this unmanly moment. In fact, she encouraged it, to help him leach this poison from his soul so that they could, at last, be together, free of the cruel taint of the past.

Stepping into him, she ran her fingers along his scalp soothingly, seeking to offer him comfort from his sorrow. With a hitched breath, Theo grabbed her around her thighs and tucked his face into them, hiding his personal shame. He shuddered against her, but made no sound. They rode out the storm of his actualization for several minutes, neither giving the game a second thought, uncaring of the minutes ticking away.

"Daph…" Theo sighed heavily, lifting his face. "I need to know: why can't I pursue you after the game ends?" His fingers deftly brushed a stray section of bangs off his face. "Why can't I have you after tonight?"

Her heart clenching with anxiety, Daphne considered the circumstances she now found herself facing. Could she tell him the whole truth? No, it would be better if she didn't. It would only ruin what time they had left together. She didn't want these next hours tainted in any way by what her future held for her.

"We are graduating," she explained, using the rational, logical answer instead of the full truth. Both were equally as accurate, but this account would be infinitely less painful than the other. "Professor Sprout recommended university study to you, did she not? And I have heard that the Kenmare Kestrels and the Fitchburg Finches have both offered you positions as Chaser."

He shrugged. "None of which prevents us from seeing each other. It's not as if we couldn't Apparate to the other whenever we wanted to be close."

Daphne looked down, feeling that sinking, constricting sensation in her chest once again and struggling to shove it aside. She engrossed herself in running her fingernails through his soft, brown and gold-highlighted strands, hoping to distract them both, but he grabbed her hands. "Daphne…"

He was going to insist. She would have to use a typical Slytherin tactic: redirection.

"What does your card require of you?" she changed the subject, slipping out his grasp quickly and moving out of range. Picking up her glasses and her card from the table, she held them up to her eyes and read aloud so he would understand what to expect this round:

_**DEED: You get to use a sex toy on your partner.**_

Theo took a deep breath and let it out, the sound one of thwarted frustration. He picked his card up off the floor next to his feet, where it had landed earlier when he'd dropped it to embrace her and held it out to her. "Take mine and you'll have what you need to satisfy your action this round."

Reaching out with tentative fingers, Daphne once more accepted the endowment of his generosity and silently read his card to familiarize herself with his offer:

_**DEED: Use a feather on your partner in any way you wish. **_

She smiled sultrily. "I already have a toy in mind that I wish to use on you, my Theo, but this one we can incorporate as well." With a thought, she conjured up what she would need, placing it on the table next to her. "Thank you for entrusting me once more with your card and your personal gratification, however. Now, lie back so we may begin."

He paused momentarily to look up at her; there was sedition in his gaze, and it was clear that he was resentful of her artful dodging of his question. She raised a brow at such impertinence, but spoke with pointed softness. "Do you wish to forfeit and walk away, Theo? Would you deny yourself the opportunity to experience the wondrous pleasures I could confer upon you with these combined cards?" She smiled mischievously and waggled them provocatively before her, as if the two pieces of old fashioned, waxed cardboard held all the tempting secrets in the world. "With these, I will be able to continue your training, helping you to actualize your true sexual potential. And, I promise you will orgasm this time with a fulfillment to rival last round's experience."

Adorably predictable, Theo's features transformed from a set, stubborn refusal to a sincere, excitable eagerness all in the time it took Daphne to complete her counter-proposal. This did not stop him, however, from giving a reluctant sigh as he capitulated, reminding her again that there lurked a willful individual under that playful façade and she must never forget such a fact.

Adjusting his spine to accommodate the curve of the chair, her lover lay fully back as required, making no further fuss, and Daphne's clenching chest loosened in relief. They could proceed now, thank the Great Merlin.

Grabbing up the stretchy silicone ring lying on the table and the small tube of lube, she walked back to the chair and sat on the small inward dip, her breasts equal with Theo's soft, sheathed member. "Hold completely still, Theo. I'm going to harness you with something that will aid you in learning control." Lubing up the cock ring and his penis well, and setting the clear, gliding fluid down for now, lightly she gripped his shaft in one hand and began fitting the stretchy, rubber band-like hoop around his testes first, and then slipped his quickly hardening penis in last, assuring it wasn't too tight, but held just the right pressure.

As she affixed the sexual aide around him, he gasped at the strange and exquisite feeling of being tautly squeezed, and hummed in pleasure to watch his cock engorge with blood, stretching a tad longer and thicker as a result. "That feels… oh, gods… that's _fucking amazing!_" he gasped and shivered with pleasure. "I want to come already, but can't. It's holding me back."

Assuring his comfort with a question, receiving his guarantee that the ring wasn't too tight, she rubbed some extra lube into the palms of her hands and then warmed them by rubbing them briskly together. "Bend your knees down and back," she instructed softly and he complied. "Good. Now, grab your ankles."

He did as required without pause or question, so in reward she grasped his iron-hard length gently, holding him with firm, but tender pressure and began stroking up and down with both hands. "Try to be conscientious of your breathing as I touch you, beloved. Attempt to keep your inhalations and exhalations even and controlled throughout this lesson. It is the first step towards recognizing multiple orgasms."

With varying pressures, she caressed his mouth-watering cock, watching as the tip of him wept helplessly as she stroked fast several times, then slowed to a crawl for the next minute, then stopped altogether to do little more than feather the veins along the bottom. She cupped his testes, rolled them gently, and learned the feel and texture of them. Summoning a feather to her hand with a thought – the softest of Occamy plumes – she stroked his Hampton and his balls and his tiny, puckered hole at the bottom, underneath. Throughout it all, Theo moaned, gasped, jerked his hips, but he worked very hard at regulating his breathing.

"You are doing wonderfully," she complimented, knowing that one of the most important things for a male to reach sexual awareness was to reassure his ego constantly. "Controlling your breathing is one of the key components to tantric sex." She slowed her hands, allowing him time to regain power over his body's responses. "Close your eyes and take a very slow, deep breath now," she instructed. "Expand your lungs to capacity, then hold for three seconds, then release slowly." He did as she requested. "Again," she prompted. This time, she stroked him twice – once on the inhale, once on the exhale. "Good. Do it again."

They continued in this way for long minutes, her alternating between stroking him with her hand and tickling him with the feather. When she felt he was relaxed enough, she put the feather aside and lubed up two fingers, and gently inserted them into the small opening of his rear. At first, he wanted to resist the act of being penetrated, but with gentle reassurance and proper stimulation to his perineum, he eventually relaxed, and passed through the emotional and physical discomfort into the realms of heightened pleasure, as she stroked the overly-sensitive nerves that inspired a man's orgasm. By combining a gentle thrust with her fingers with a stroke to his shaft, she forced Theo to experience such need that he had to concentrate extra-hard to keep his breathing regulated.

"How does this feel?" she asked softly, tenderly indoctrinating him into this side of sexual promiscuity with loving care.

Theo took a shuddering, deep breath. "No one's ever touched me there like that," he admitted with a vulnerable expression in his eyes, unknowingly answering her question regarding whether he'd ever had a male lover. "A part of me thinks this should be weird and I shouldn't like it, but… _ooh_…" His eyes rolled back in his head as she stroked the tiny vein under his sack again with her thumb. "It feels so _bloody wonderful_." He widened his legs a bit, his thighs shaking from the rush of unfamiliar, delightful sensations she knew he was discovering. "Go deeper."

Inordinately proud of illuminating Theo to the joys of new sexual experiences, Daphne gave him what he requested, and gently thrust her fingers into him as deep as they could go, watching his entire body flush with blood, shudder, desperately strain for more. He moaned loudly, unreservedly, and the sound shot straight into her core, causing a rush of her own fluids to drench her knickers.

He was magnificent spread out before her like this, so open, so trusting.

_I love you_, she thought silently, wishing she'd learned the art of mind magic at the same time as sex magic, so she could have shared with him the depths of her feelings in that moment. _My beautiful Theodore._

Near the end of the twenty-minute lesson – for wearing a cock ring for longer could be dangerous for a man's health, she knew from her instruction – she removed her fingers from their exploration and summoning a small, floating bowl with fresh water, some soap and a wash towel, she cleaned both her hands and Theo's backside carefully before removing the toy from around his length. All of the breath left Theo's lungs in a single whoosh as soon as he was freed from the device. "Try not to climax yet," she commanded, gripping his base and pressing down on a vein underneath to hold him in check, knowing the inevitable reaction a man experienced after the release from the pressure. "Hold out for as long as you can endure."

Theo whimpered, quaked, and grit his teeth, suffering to observe her wish. She gave him points for lasting even ten seconds, as not even the expert Sex-Warlock she'd trained under could last very long after his penis had been released from such captivity. "Fuck!" her partner whimpered. "I can't… I can't stop! I'm sorry!" Letting go of one ankle, he fiercely grabbed her hand and shoved them together over the slick, hard length of his beautiful penis. As his hips jerked, he pulled his whole torso up using only his rock-hard abs and came in powerful spurts of white all over his belly with a shout of her name. As soon as the initial explosion passed, he locked his complete attention onto her. "All for you," he avowed, pulling himself the rest of the way up, reaching out and grabbing her with his free hand, slamming his mouth down on hers as soon as she came into range.

Under her fingers, Theo's cock continued to twitch and release small jets of sticky seed, even as his tongue tangled up hungrily with hers. He kissed her like it was the last chance to do so, finally letting himself go and pulling her with both arms into his lap to straddle him. Rubbing his fingers across his stomach and capturing his come, he dipped under her dress, pulled her knickers to the side, and rubbed his fluids all over her soaking lower lips. Thrusting those same fingers deep inside her, he began fucking her with his hand. "Lose control for me," he murmured against her mouth, taking the dominant position again in their relationship, just as he had done in the last round there at the end. "Let me see you give it up again, my beautiful Queen." He lapped at her mouth. "Fly apart for me like I do for you, Daphne."

She gripped his wrist. "Theo, no," she tried to stop him, but her voice sounded aberrantly pleading, unsure, rather than the commanding presence she normally affected. He was cracking away at her mental shield finally, just as she'd feared would happen. She couldn't let this continue; it would ruin all of her plans…

"Yes, sweetheart," he sensuously challenged, biting her bottom lip to silence her debate. "You're going to let me worship and service you as you deserve now." Suckling on her pulse, biting gently, he continued enticing her with an expert hand between her legs and another on her breast, kneading gently. "Ride my fingers. Fuck them like you'd fuck me."

Against the sage warning in her heart, Daphne's body was helpless but to surrender to the man she loved and the desire he'd ignited within. As his fingers reached deep inside her pulsing, grasping vagina, she rolled her hips in time to his thrusts. When his thumb grazed her swollen clit, igniting sparks all through her womb, she bit back a scream and tried hard not to beg for more. "I love the way you say my name, Daphne. Call out for me again. Come for me," he coaxed, his lips clamping down on her throat, suckling on the flesh above her pulse and leaving his mark of possession behind. The pressure of his plunging hand increased, and with a final stroke across her pearl, Daphne shattered. She cried out for Theo, gripping his hair and holding onto him tight.

Removing his fingers from her still-shivering pussy, with his other, Theo began stroking the tip of his penis against her damp panties. "Can we?" he asked, and it was obvious what he was seeking.

Daphne wrapped her arms about his neck and pressed her lips to his ear, quaking internally with both need and fear. "Theo, I am not sure I am ready for us to go further yet," she confessed shakily.

He pulled back, startled, but instead of scoffing, as she's expected, he simply kissed her sweetly. "Then we won't yet. Promise. I just want to get as close as I can to you," he murmured, against her lips, smoothing the hair from her sweaty cheek tenderly. He tucked his cock against her clothed barrier and slung both arms about her, holding her against him tightly. "I want to bring you pleasure again and again, sweetheart. I _need_ to." His hips began gyrating against her slowly, allowing his semi-erect shaft to run up and down the length of her crevice. "Daphne," he murmured against her cheek. "I know it's really soon, but… I've fallen for yo…"

"No," she denied him and silenced him with a powerful kiss, knowing what he was going to say and terrified of hearing it, despite it being her heart's greatest desire. If he said _that_ to her now, he would emotionally enslave her as he had so many others before. She would let him make love to her in a quick coupling, and then she really would be just another conquest that he could add to his count. "Don't, please," she whispered, pulling her lips off of him sorrowfully. "Not in the heat of the moment. Say it only if you mean it and not before."

Theo looked at her with hurt confusion. "I do mean it."

Adamantly, she shook her head and pulled herself from his embrace a second time, standing on unsteady legs, forcing herself to move away. Keeping her back to him, she struggled to find her control again, to rein in her shaky nerves and emotions. It took long minutes to do so. In that time, Theo remained quiet, but she could feel his scrutiny burning into her, could feel his disappointment and anger at being rejected.

"You're running scared," he finally broke the silence, and she realized that he was standing directly behind her now. Before she could escape, his arms firmly encircled her and pulled her in tight against his body. His erection kissed the sway of her back just as his lips did upon her temple. "Don't be afraid of me. There's no reason for us to hide from each other."

It was an impossible task to require her heart to stop its fierce pounding in her ears, but she struggled to keep her voice even as she deflected the conversation once more. "Who was she?" she demanded, going back on her earlier resolve not to pry into his secrets. "The woman who took your virginity?"

He shook his head. "You don't want to know."

Turning in his arms, she forced herself to meet his gaze. "You claim to have feelings for me, yet you keep secrets."

"To protect you," he countered, his expression suddenly fierce.

She quirked an eyebrow. "You see? You cannot even be honest with me, Theo. There can be nothing deeply abiding without truth between partners."

He stared at her hard. "Talk about hypocritical! Look, I've got an idea: why don't you tell me why you won't let me pursue you after the game and in return, I'll tell you who I fucked first," he angrily proposed, moving his arms off of her and taking several steps back.

Daphne inhaled sharply and shook her head. "I… I cannot," she stammered, looking down at the space that had opened between them, both physically and metaphorically. Her heart pulsed in her chest painfully. "I can't!" she hissed, her control slipping again. Her nails bit into the palms of her hands as she fought against her temper.

Gods above, it hurt, knowing she was ruining them, destroying this chance, but some secrets were meant to be kept - especially those whose revelation could implicate others in arguably "questionable" practices that current, mainstream society would certainly frown upon. Worse, she was quite certain that the Ministry would be interested in seeking legal ramifications against any clandestine, participating parties in said rituals were they to be revealed (and never mind that the custom was, at one time, considered part of a time-honored tradition for sex-magic apprentices, as it was how the law interpreted it _now_ that ultimately mattered). Hers was one such secret.

Fighting to regain a calm control over her emotions, she sniffed and looked away. "I apologize for my impetuousness. We had previously agreed not to press the matter, and I have gone back on my intentions not to pry into your private life. Perhaps it is best we not discuss such things again," she attempted for rational discourse. "As these subjects merely create negative tension between us and are ruining our enjoyment of the game."

Theo was silent for a good minute or two.

"The game?" he asked incredulously, his tone laced with anger. "That's the most important thing here to you?"

_No, you misunderstand,_ her soul cried out, but she could not force the words past her lips. Instead, she simply stood before him, voiceless, sure her expression gave away everything, and for the first time was unsure of the right move to make. Her beloved had been right; she _was_ scared. Terrified was more like it, actually.

"Fine," he snarled, turned and gathered his clothes, redressing. He made it to the door, fully clothed, before her panicked mouth opened.

"Theo, wait!"

He paused, his hand on the knob, not looking at her, but clearly listening. The chimes rang out, giving her a moment more to gather her thoughts.

With trembling knees, she approached him, stopping just shy of being able to reach out and touch him. "I… The game is _not _the most important thing to me." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, still wary. "You were correct," she barreled onward, feeling her stomach rioting with anxiety and fear. "I am sincerely trepidacious. This is all happening too quickly for me to adjust." Stretching forth her hand, she let her fingers tentatively trace over his grasp of the door handle. "I am enjoying our exploration of each other, and I am taking great pleasure in the teaching to you the art of love-making. I do not want it to end."

He looked down at their coupled hands, bitterness reflected in his gaze. "You're not teaching me love-making, Daphne. You're teaching me sexual technique." He looked at her with dejected misery. "Sure, I like it, but… what I'm searching for is a connection – a long-term thing with a girl, not just another meaningless shag. I've had enough of those; I'm tired of them. I thought…" He swallowed thickly. "I thought I'd found that kind of bond with you tonight, but if that's not the case on your end, then…" He looked down at their entwined hands again. "Maybe it's better if we quit playing now, before one of us gets too entangled with the other and ends up hurt."

_Tell him!,_ the voice of reason in her mind screamed at her. _Tell him how you feel about him!_

Quaking inside, she swallowed back her misgivings and gathered her courage, putting aside her Slytherin instincts and embracing something foreign and decidedly uncomfortable for her to attempt: direct honesty, clean of subterfuge.

Before she could open her mouth, however, Theo had turned the knob and opened the door. "I'm going to think about it over the next question round – whether to stay or forfeit, I mean. You should do the same." With that, he walked away, shutting the door quietly behind him, giving her the opportunity to clean up in private.

Leaning against the wall, Daphne's shock morphed quickly into regretful sorrow. Sliding to the floor, she wrapped her arms about her knees and numbly stared at her slippered feet. How could she tell him what he wanted to know? If she did she would lose everything she had sacrificed so much to gain. He would most likely have no part of her once he found out the truth. But if she didn't confess, she'd lose it all anyway; Theo would walk away from her tonight, and it would be over between them.

A vicious Catch-22.

With a small sob, she buried her head in her arms and allowed herself to feel her terror, seeing no way out of her predicament.

They were doomed to fail, weren't they?

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Near You Always" by Jewel. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**Please don't say I love you,  
those words touch me much too deeply,  
and they make my core tremble.  
(I) don't think you realize the effect you have over me.**_

_**And please don't look at me like that,  
It just makes me want to make you near me always.**_

_**Please don't kiss me so sweet,  
it makes me crave a thousand kisses to follow.  
And please don't touch me like that,  
makes every other embrace seem pale and shallow.**_

_**And please don't come so close,  
it just makes me want to make you near me always.**_

_**Please don't bring me flowers.  
They only whisper the sweet things you'd say.  
Don't try to understand me.  
Your hands already know too much anyway.**_

_**It (all) makes me want to make you near me always.**_

_**And when you look in my eyes,  
please know my heart is in your hands.  
It's nothing that I understand, but when in your arms,  
you have complete power over me.**_

_**So be gentle if you please, 'cause  
Your hands are in my hair, but my heart is in your teeth.**_

_**And it makes me want to make you near me always.**_

_**Your hands are in my hair, but my heart is in your teeth,  
And it makes me want to make you near me always.**_

_**I want to be near you always…  
I want to be near you always…  
I want to be near you always.**_


	29. Chapter 5F: Blaise & Ginny

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**heeroduo1x2 **__recommended the song __**"Naturally" by Selena Gomez **__for Blaise & Ginny this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Ginny's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**heeroduo1x2**__ - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favourites, and reward you, as promised! Here are some of the entries so far: s905 . photobucket albums / ac260 / RZZMG / Eros%20Psyche / CONTEST%20IMAGES /**

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ - how I love thee, let me count the ways. Umm… you always catch my grammar, spelling and word-usage mistakes. You brainstorm fabulously. You are an incalculable help in writing this fic and keeping it moving towards its ending. **YOU ARE, PLAINLY PUT, AWESOME.** We all thank you!

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE (#6): Blaise & Ginny**

Ginny was re-reading her card, following behind Blaise absently into their private room, her stomach aflutter with excitement. She couldn't wait to perform her card on him!

A firm hand on her elbow stopped her from accidentally walking into the end of the bed and tumbling over. Blinking, she looked up in surprise, and then grinned and shook her head in silly amusement. Apparently, paying attention to where she was walking and fantasizing about sucking her partner's cock didn't go hand-in-hand.

"Thanks," she murmured.

Blaise's right eyebrow twitched and he looked down at her card. "That good, hmmm?"

Turning it around, she proudly displayed it for him with both hands gripping the edges:

_**DEED: You get to go down on your partner. Have fun!**_

"Bless Seamus!" she squealed, and at Blaise's annoyed glance, she waggled her brows at him. "It's one of his cards."

Comprehension dawned on his features, and gone was the obvious jealousy, to be replaced by mischievous leering. Her handsome Slytherin turned his card towards her and let her read his own _Deed_:

_**DEED: Set your wand to vibrate and use it on your partner any way you want.**_

"It's one of Drake's," he explained, chuckling darkly. "He and I worked together on ours so we wouldn't be at cross-purposes."

Her mouth set in an anticipatory "o" shape and then she giggled. "Well, perhaps Pansy was right: a vibrating wand could quite possibly make up for England's lack of really great chocolate caches."

In a smooth move, Blaise stepped into her personal space and leaned his mouth towards her ear, purring playfully. "I'll be all the chocolate you'll ever need, love."

The double _entendre_ was perfectly timed, and she laughed out loud, smacking him playfully on his shoulder. "Bad, Zabini… really, _really_ bad." She rolled her eyes as he moved back and gave her a sexy, predatory grin. "Can I say the same, then? After all, I'm your fantasy wank material, yeah?"

Unabashed, Blaise nodded, reached up and tugged a long lock of her hair gently. "Mmmm, that you have been, my redheaded trouble-maker. Every single time I come, it's you I see in my mind."

Ginny felt her cheeks heat up, and she laughed, flustered. "Wow, you're so smooth. Who'd have guessed?"

Handing her his card, he leaned down and pressed a soft, enticing kiss to her lips. "_Everything_ I do is smooth and calculated, my lioness. You're only now picking up on my Slytherin subtleties, however." He pressed his small, rectangular "agenda" against her own, forcing her fingers to accept it in passing. "Take my card this round. I want you to use it on me in any way you wish." His dark eyes glittered with meaning, and it was clear where the wand was intended to end up.

Ginny swallowed thickly in nervousness. She'd never done anything like that before with a man. Heck, her experiences were Harry, a one-off with Seamus and some snogging and non-intercourse fooling about with Dean. What if she did it all wrong? What if she hurt him without meaning to? How did you even do something like… _that_… right?

Chuckling again, Blaise tipped her chin with a finger. "No cowering now. You're in total control this time, so enjoy me as you will, Ginevra."

He reached behind him and through the still-open door, he silently _Accio_'d his wand to his hand from the table. It sailed across the intervening space quickly, and smacked into his palm with finality. With an easy wave, he shut the door and locked it, then passed the rod to her.

Taking it gently – it was a big display of trust to give another witch or wizard you wand like this, she knew – she held the dark purplish wood between her fingers and felt the magic slide over her. Instantly, she felt more empowered, more determined… almost darkly so. "What's your wand made of?" she asked, turning it over and over between her hands, dropping the cards without concern onto the floor as she absorbed herself in the survey of his wand.

"Purpleheart wood," he replied as he stepped past, already shucking his clothing. "It's an exotic wood from the tropics – the only one of its kind, according to Mister Ollivander. Eleven inches. Dragon heartstring core." The bed squeaked as he climbed onto the mattress. "What's yours?"

"Holly, ten inches, Unicorn hair core," she answered automatically, giving his wand a gentle wave. Across the room, a purple light smashed into the wall, leaving a scorch mark in its passing. "Oh, dear." Blinking in trepidation, she turned to a seated, very naked and patiently waiting Blaise and held his wand out to him. "I'm not sure this is such a good idea. I don't want to hurt you."

He stared at her for a moment or two, and then silently held his arms out to her. Without pause, she walked into his embrace, and he made her straddle his lap. With one arm anchored about her waist, his fingers splayed over her right butt cheek, he reached out with his free hand and grasped the wand, laying it lightly over her heart. "_Convenio Compingo_," he whispered, and instantly, the magic touching her changed, became more... accepting. There really was no other way for her to explain the sensation, aside from feeling a dynamic shift in its effect on her; the compulsion to use it changed from something bordering on menacing to a soft enjoyment.

"What did you do?" she asked, fearful, her eyes as wide open as they could be.

His fingers moved to feather her cheek, and he glanced up at her from between his dark lashes. "Gave the last of my power over to you," he admitted fearlessly. "You can use my wand now. It will accept you fully."

Inside her chest, Ginny's heart began thumping wildly. First his TWN, now his wand... "Why would you do that?" she asked, tears unexpectedly filling her eyes. "Why would you trust me so much?"

There was absolute surrender in his gaze, and she finally comprehended. It was all right there, in his beautiful, dark whiskey-colored eyes. Her body shook uncontrollably as the reality of the situation struck her finally. "You weren't exaggerating when you said you'd given your heart to me, were you?"

He smiled gently, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Will you touch me as I need you to, Ginevra?" he artfully dodged, the answer more than obvious. "Will you taste me? Will you... _care_ for me, as I do for you?"

Heart slamming in her mouth, Ginny let out a shaky breath. "Blaise, this is all happening so fast."

Sliding his hands down her neck, over the collarbone and down over her left breast again, he looked at her earnestly. "Does it feel right being with me?" he pressed over her pulsing organ. "In here, do you feel anything lasting for me at all?"

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and considered his questions seriously, mentally reaching for her magical aura for inner clarity at the same time.

In much the way one recognized their own soul when turning inwardly in calm meditation, every witch or wizard could feel their own magical aura if they concentrated hard enough. It was pure energy crackling along one's spine, travelling through one's limbs, charging the heart. She'd once heard Cho refer to it as _chi,_ and the Patil twins called it _prana_. No matter the name, it was all the same idea: a living energy flow. In Ginny's mind's eye, her own presence was a golden light surrounding and protecting her, uncorrupted by dark magic. It was comforting and it centered her so that, for a few moments, she could illume her own feelings.

What had harboured for Harry for years under her breast had been the emotions of a child's infatuation, a _naïve_ hero worship combined with the power of one's first, true crush. With Seamus and Dean, it had been simple, unadulterated lust, brought on by loneliness and need. There had been nothing upon which to base either relationship; they'd been fun encounters, but not long-term bonding by any means.

With Blaise, however, she actually didfeel safe and warm. Strangely, she trusted him. And there was plenty of lust between them, yes, and a certain infatuation as well, but there was also something else much more important: a connection of their temperamental souls. They'd both suffered at the hands of monsters as children and both not only survived, but endured the unthinkable. They become strong in their own ways to cope – he in his cold, resolute determination, she in her fiery, tenacious temper - and that struggle had made them indomitable, compatible spirits.

Yet, they'd both stubbornly denied it, held back by House prejudices; they'd pushed instead of pulled, and for two years, they'd sparred and verbally scratched and bit at every opportunity, both on the Quidditch field and off, intent upon proving themselves the most unbreakable of all.

Funny, but Blaise had been right: somewhere in that stormy clashing, they'd come to want each other - she'd just been too afraid to admit that frightening fact. Tonight, though, all the walls had come tumbling down, and she felt that they'd finally come to _understand_ each other. And it had all begun with his capitulation, not hers; her pride would never have allowed her to kneel first. Blaise did so willingly - which told her more than any words ever could about the depth of his feelings for her.

Her sombre Slytherin lover had become uninhibitedly vulnerable to her in trusting her implicitly with his magic, so now it was her turn. This was the only way to make them truly equal, and to give them a beginning upon which to foster and expand their foundation. Strangely, the idea of giving herself away so completely to him wasn't frightening anymore. It was rather freeing, actually, and the reason was quite simple: she respected him for his incredible emotional strength, she was touched by his open, tender sincerity, and she definitely craved his body. It was the recipe for the beginnings of love, which could possibly grow into something wonderful if she'd give it this chance.

Opening her eyes with a relieved smile, she placed her hand over Blaise's heart and locked gazes with him, committing herself unreservedly to her course of action: "My given name is Ginevra Molly Weasley. But my true witch's name is Janae Gwenhwyfar Weasley." She stretched slowly towards him and placed a small peck upon his lips, barely a touch of flesh. "And I'm giving you my heart, too, Blaise Zabini. Don't you dare break it."

Her partner's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open slightly, and for several minutes, neither said anything, simply stared at each other, he with amazed shock and her with assured reserve.

"You didn't have to do that," he finally managed. "It was too much. "

Kissing him silenced that conversation effectively for the moment; she didn't want to regret this decision or cheapen it with too many explanations. The wet, lingering pull of her lips on his also had the added bonus of setting the right mood for performing their cards – something that she wanted so very eagerly to do just then, feeling a little shaken with her grand leap of faith.

With applied pressure, she pushed her man onto his back into the soft mattress, and moved his wand to the side to free up her hands, so she could wrap them around his neck. "Shut up and let me seduce you, Blasius," she tenderly insisted, and felt the magic of his TWN pass her tongue with an electric tingle. It had an instant effect on him, making him shudder and go pliant in her arms.

Against her belly, his naked erection strained. "Oh, yes, you are _definitely_ my kind of wicked... Janae," he hummed softly, and her entire soul trembled at her witch's christening spoken aloud by his lips. Her body tightened in need.

They kissed with such passion that Ginny was swept away with the feelings. The way he touched her – sliding those expert fingers of his up the back of her thighs, curving around her back cheeks, parting them and trailing softly up and down the slit over her knickers - left her breathless and wanting. She pushed back against his fingertips, wanting him to enter her in both openings at once, wanting to orgasm around his skilful manipulations again, but he merely shook his head and chuckled. "Next round, kitten. This time, you get to learn about it by doing it." He stared up at her, his free hand moving the curtain of her long hair to the side. "It'll help you to _see_ how pleasurable an act it is if you perform it on someone else first."

Her pussy clenching in need, she shuddered and nodded, putting her own needs to the side for the moment. "Okay. Just... I've never touched a man back _there_ before, so you'll need to-"

"Don't worry," he interrupted, smiling and kissing her again. "I'll teach you." He reached out and found his wand where she had laid it down and put it back into her fingers. Then, with a mental thought, he conjured a small bottle of lubrication and gave her that as well. "Down you go," he instructed and applied pressure to her shoulders to get her moving.

Sliding between his legs, she came face-to-face with his erect member again, her mouth instantly watering. Blaise summoned a pillow and put it under his head, giving him good leverage, and bent his knees, opening himself up wide for her without reservation. "Touch me," he begged in a soft murmur, his deep voice rumbling with need. "Put your mouth on me."

Setting aside the items in her hands, Ginny dedicated herself to relearning every inch of Blaise's penis. He was so big - long, thick, and meaty, with juicy pre-come weeping over the tip. Reaching out, she gripped him firmly and swiped across the head, making her partner moan. Slowly, she glided up and down his taut length, alternating between watching his face and watching her hand. Compared to the rather shy Dean (the only other man who's dick she'd played with in this manner), Blaise was completely unabashed by having her stare at and touch his naked body. Godric, he had _such_ a gorgeous cock!

A sinful chuckle brought her gaze back to his face. "That's the first time anyone's ever called it gorgeous," he teased, his white teeth gleaming as his grin stretched from ear to ear.

Ginny blinked and felt her blush creep up her cheeks. "Godric, did I say that aloud?" He nodded and she groaned in embarrassment. "I... well, I can't help it!" she defended herself, holding him straight in the air and stroking up and down, enjoying the way he twitched under her fingers. "It is! It's absolutely beautiful!" Her throat tightened, and between her legs, she felt her knickers dampen. "I'm dying to taste you."

Blaise's dark eyes glittered with lust, his face having lost its playfulness, his features tight with dark need. His hands tightly clenched the duvet cover. "Then do it. Kiss me, Ginevra."

Her eyes never leaving his, she tilted her head up, aligned her mouth over the dark beige-lightly pink head and French kissed it, smoothing her tongue slowly over his slit and sampling his sweet-slightly salty flavour. He was delicious, and she licked her lips when she pulled back.

Chest drawing a deep shaky breath, Blaise let it out slow. "Again."

Repeating the action, swirling around the sensitive edge of his crown, this time, she dipped a little further down and sucked on the short trip back up, letting him go with a pop. Her lover's eyes rolled back in his head and he closed his eyelids, swallowing heavily. "Again." His lids peeked open, half-mast. "More," he gently growled.

Feeling sexier than she ever had in her life, knowing how she was unravelling such a powerful man with simple licks and kisses to his most intimate self, Ginny boldly took him into her mouth, flattening her tongue to the bottom and loosening her jaw. With a slow descent, she was able to get him about a third of the way in before she had to forcefully relax the muscles of her throat to continue. Still, she could only take about half of him into her before she had to stop. Clamping down on him, she sucked deep and pulled up, feeling the reversal motion of his hot, hard flesh. At that same time, her free hand reached out to lightly caress his sac.

Blaise groaned loudly and gasped, unconsciously tightening up his lower muscles. "Oh, fuck!" he hissed as she twisted her tongue at the last second over his tip and swirled, sucking extra hard. Immediately, she dropped back down onto him, tasting his pre-seminal fluid spurting into her mouth. It was decadently flavoured, intoxicating her thoroughly, and made her body spark with life.

Behind her closed eyelids, she saw a golden flash and felt her magical aura tremble in response.

As her head came up, she released him and began slathering his great length with her tongue, giving her throat a bit of a rest. Peeling her lids open, murmuring against his hot flesh, she let him know everything she was thinking and feeling just then. "Mmmm... _so good_... I love the feel of your beautiful cock around my tongue and in my mouth. Gods, you're so _big__!_" With a muffled moan, she dropped back down onto him, sucking him with exquisite tenderness, giving him all her skill, all the feeling in her heart. "I taste you... so delicious. I want all of you, Blaise."

With a mighty pull of his stomach muscles, her wizard sat up straight and widened his stance even more, gripping her hair gently. He guided her lower onto his cock, making whimpering moans. "Ginny, I'm going to come soon. You don't have to swallow it. You can stop."

Ignoring his sweet offer, she stayed in the moment, simply on fire to taste his come, and refused to be deterred from bringing him this way. Her free hand continued to caress his bollocks, while her other followed the trail of her mouth up and down him, increasing in speed as his hips rocked himself deep into her mouth. "Merlin's soul, woman, I am so in love with you," he gasped, and his sincere declaration made tears prickle her eyes and her soul cry out in joy.

_He loved her! Godric Almighty, he really loved her!_

She wanted so badly to please him then, and dropped as low as she could, fighting her gag reflex, convulsing around his cock as she swirled her head around and around on the pull-out. His whole body tensed. "Oh, gods... I'm coming! Oh, _Ginny!_" he shouted, leaning back on the palms of his hands and thrusting up into her mouth with the power of his hips.

Clamping her lips around him and sucking hard, hot, pulsating sprays of his come shot into her mouth, flooding her. It was almost too much at once, nearly choking her, and some dribbled out, but Ginny managed to swallow the majority of his seed, feeling the delectable salty fluid slide down her throat, filling her belly.

Again, behind her eyes, golden light flashed, and this time, her magical aura quaked in response, forcing her body to follow in its lead. Everything within her felt like it was ready to open up to something new and wonderful...

She held onto him tight, milking every last drop from him in the after shudders, and when his body finally collapsed back onto the mattress, and his legs flopped tiredly to the sides, she let him go, placing a gentle, final kiss on the exhausted tip. Arms lifted tiredly, reaching for her, and she crawled up her wizard's body to lie in his embrace at his side. Against her ear, his heart pounded still, trying to slow, and his lungs continued to pant.

_His heart... _No, he'd given it to her. It was her heart now_. He loves me!_ Ginny wanted to weep with the knowledge, but bit her tongue and kept her emotions in check, not wanting to make him overly self-conscious. Saying the 'L' word was a huge step in a relationship, one that required maturity and sensitivity to handle, and so she awkwardly set aside her normally passionate, Gryffindor nature for the moment to coolly settle into the quiet, acceptance phase instead.

Of course, it was killing her not to jump up and crow in triumph. Despite that, she managed to adequately restrain her basic instincts. Clearly, _he_ was rubbing off on her.

They held each other in silence for a long while, before Blaise finally shifted and two fingers tilted her chin up so they could look each other in the eye. "Did I hurt you?" he asked concerned. "I was a little out of control there at the end."

Ginny shook her head and smiled. "Did I hurt _you__?_" she countered, playfully. "I was getting off on sucking you so hard, I'm sure I've left one big love bruise."

A slow, jesting grin crawled up his handsome cheek. "Definitely my kind of wicked," he reiterated, and stretched his face down to kiss her lips. "In a few more minutes, we can do the other half of the cards."

Amazed at his endurance, she could only gape at him. "You came last round and then just now. Aren't you tired or sore?"

A dark eyebrow merely rose in amusement. "Hardly. I could go another four or five times in the next few hours, so long as I have a small rest in between."

Seriously, she blinked in utter surprise. "Shut up!" she challenged him, having heard Lavender, Padma, and Parvati use that particular phrase a few times in the past. "No guy can go that many times in one night!"

That delectable chuckle drifted past her ear, making Ginny shiver, and his hand gripped hers, guiding her over to the evidence of his awakening arousal. He stroked them gently over his huge length together, and she could feel his foreskin stretch back as he stiffened. "Contrary to popular belief, Ginevra," he joked, "I am the real Sex God of Slytherin - not Malfoy or Nott." He leaned his lips against her ear and whispered. "And right now, I want you to fuck me with my own wand. I've never done that before, and I want _you_ to do it to me."

Something inside Ginny squealed with excitement; she was going to get one of Blaise's firsts. It was probably one of the only ones he had left, honestly, if the gossip was to be believed.

Nodding enthusiastically, she started to move away, but he stopped her, gripping her arms and holding her in place, his gaze meeting hers. "I trust you, Ginny," he solemnly told her. "I know you'll do this right, so don't be nervous, yes?"

The moment empowered her and she nodded. "I'll make you feel good again, promise."

They traded shy smiles, and then she eagerly moved to the space between his legs. He was still wide open for her, but he tilted his hips back a bit for her. "Lubricate me well," he explained.

Ginny slathered some of the clear fluid onto her fingertips, warming them by rubbing back and forth, and then dipped them all over his rear entrance. It was odd touching a man here - a "forbidden spot" - and yet she inferred from his responses to one of the earlier questions that he'd had male lovers. That he was not at all uneasy about her probing back here – even going so far as to pierce him very gently, at his coaxing – made her realize that there must be truth to her suspicions regarding his bi-sexuality.

Her finger glided in and out of the tightly ringed canal to the chorus of his enjoying gasps, and she learned the feel of him here, watching as his heavy sac tightened up and his cock jumped each time she thrust forward. This type of penetration was quickly becoming not quite as scary as it had been to her, watching him take such pleasure from the act, and she vaguely remembered the feeling of his own finger inside her in this manner last round. She'd been caught up in orgasm at that moment, but now that she recalled it, it hadn't felt so sinister or wrong. In fact, as she really considered it now, knowing that it had been _him_ touching her in that matter actually made her quite aroused.

Adding lube as necessary, she made sure he was well-prepared when he commanded her to set the wand to vibrate and to enter him slowly. The end of the purple-coloured rod was rounded and so it smoothly parted his flesh to sink inside, stretching him, until he bade her stop. She hadn't realized she was holding her breath until several inches were buried inside of him. By then, Blaise was moaning in low, deep rumbles as the buzzing, stiff wood stimulated his utmost pleasure. As she looked up, his brow and upper lip were dotted with perspiration, his eyes were closed, and his face was tense in concentration.

"Feels _so_ good," he sighed, his face enraptured, his hand clenching in the bed covers again, rhythmically grasping and releasing. "Gently move in and out now." She did as he instructed, setting a rhythm in time to his hands' motion, and he moaned and swore again, his hips gyrating gently. "Touch yourself at the same time," he begged, his neck arching. "Let me see how you like your pussy handled, Ginny."

Sitting up, she removed all of her clothing quickly, and with her clean hand, she began rubbing her clit in the slow circular motion she preferred, as her other hand took up the sliding motion of the wand. "Hold out if you can," she requested, increasing the pace of her fingers over her pearly nub, moaning at the sensations. The buzzing of the wand was enough to tingle through her limbs and lightly tremble in the pool of her womb, making her drenching wet in no time. "I want to come along with you."

He nodded, his head tossing back and forth on the pillow as he gave himself over to the sensations, his dark eyes slitted. "You are the sexiest woman I've ever known," he murmured, watching her pleasure herself even as she continued doing the same for him. "And I love what you're doing to me - _for_ me." He smiled even as his eyes closed and he gasped again, panting as she increased the pace slightly. He put his hand over his heart, his smile widening. "From the first, my lioness... you owned me from the very first. You're so beautiful and so strong... and... oh, gods, Ginny_ - _this feels _amazing!_ Faster, love." He moaned and thrust against her hand, taking the wand all the way in to the grip.

His hands were twisting the coverlet hard, his powerful muscles bunching up as he approached his climax. Opening his eyes, he locked onto her hand fondling her clit and gripped his shaft, stroking up and down in time with her movement. Licking his lips, he struggled to catch his breath. "I want to come all over you again."

Letting the wand go, leaving it embedded in him to the hilt, she straddled his lap and rubbed her soaking lower lips over his dripping cock; he gripped her hips and guided her along his length, careful not to pierce her, just to rub. The feel of his shaft, vibrating slightly from the wand's influence, tickled her clit and brought her to her end in moments.

Anchoring her hands on his chest, she slid up the length of him one last time, and slipped him into her quickly, impaling herself with a fierce downward thrust and orgasming at just that moment with a scream of soul-shaking ecstasy. His hot, thick flesh became one with hers in that second, just as her golden magical aura slid against his, through his, merging their feelings together. Her ecstasy combining with his own made Ginny fly into the clouds on lightning wings, her body hovering in bliss at Heaven's gates. "Oh... oh... Blaise, I... _oh,_ _Blaise, I love you, too!_" she cried, feeling the truth free her soul.

Her lover shouted a profanity in surprise at her bold, unexpected move, but that pounding rush of pure energy-lust rushed through him the same as it did her, and that was enough to unravel him completely; he finally let his well-disciplined control go, just as she'd wanted all along.

Gripping her waist tight and using his exceptional upper body strength, Blaise lifted her lithe form easily and fervently plunged her back down onto him again and again, slamming into her with vigorous force, causing her to cry out in pleasure-pain. He fucked her with feverish, uncontrollable, animalistic need, making it possible for Ginny to climax again within seconds. Throwing her head to the sky, arching her back, she rode his length, undulating all over his wet, slapping flesh, passionately crying out a second time.

"Oh, Jesus_... Ginny!_" he shouted, and with a final cry, Blaise recklessly released his hot seed up into her to the rhythm of his still-thrusting hips. "I love you! I love you! _I LOVE YOU!_" he gritted between clenched teeth as he didn't let up, emptying himself into her completely. At the end, he pulled himself upright and breathed his final moan into her mouth as he captured her lips.

Holding to each other in a tight embrace, Ginny felt her tears bathe her cheeks. No experience in the whole of her life had ever moved her as this one had; her very essence trembled at its utter vulnerability. In her arms, she felt Blaise quaking as well, and believed he might be feeling similarly likewise. They struggled individually to regain control of their quickened bodies, even as he reached down and extricated his wand, quieting it with a softly spoken word.

In a deft movement a moment later, she was rolled onto her back and her lover was leaning over her, their bodies still joined. "Wrap your legs about me," he bid against her ear, and he rocked her hips back, allowing them both to stay in a relatively comfortable missionary position. They stayed like that for a long time in silence.

"Do you know what you did?" he finally broke the stalemate with the softly-spoken question.

Ginny did know; something inside of her intuitively recognized the importance of being able to touch another's aura and seducing it. She choked back a sob. "It was an accident," she whispered.

He sighed against her temple. "Have you ever done that before?"

A small shake of her head was enough to dislodge the tears, and with them was unleashed the panic. "What... was that?"

He swallowed. "A latent power. One you're not supposed to come into until you cross the boundary into adulthood, when _all_ magic opens itself up fully to a witch or wizard for the first time."

She sniffed, quickly rubbing the tears from the exposed side of her face. "I'll be seventeen in August. Maybe, whatever this is, it just... triggered early?"

He clasped her to him and sat them up using all those muscles in his back, arms, legs and torso. "I think I'm responsible." He kissed her neck, her shoulder, his hold around her so tight there was hardly space for air or light between them. "I'm so sorry, love. I didn't know."

Pushing back a bit, she looked into his eyes then, sincerely worried. "Sorry for what? What did you do to me?"

He paused and she could see his mind flip through the possible responses. It was a good couple of minutes of uncomfortable silence between them as a result.

Ginny shifted, and the pain between her legs immediately made her gasp and wince. Oh, man, did that sting! She was going to be sore for a year.

"I hurt you," her lover clearly deflected the conversation, the relief over delaying having to explain his previous statement of responsibility evident, but his new distress over the immediate physical issues between them just as obvious. "I wanted it to be gentle and good the first time." He shook his head. "I'm so sorry, my lioness."

Ginny shut him up by kissing his lips. "I loved every moment of it."

With shy reticence, he captured her gaze again. "But I took you like- " He swallowed hard. "I was so out of control. I know I hurt you." He looked agonized. "That isn't like me, Ginevra. I swear to you."

Tracing his lips with her tongue, she silenced him again. "You made me lose control, too, Blaise. You set me free. It was _wonderful_." Tightening her embrace about his neck, she nuzzled his cheek. "You made love to me like I needed you to, and it was perfect." Biting his throat over his pulse point, she breathed hot against his throat. Inside her vagina, his cock twitched, and she responded by tightening her inner muscles around him. "And I expect you to do this with me again and again tonight, as you bragged you could." She bit his earlobe and whispered a contest she knew he couldn't resist. "I dareyou to prove to me you can."

Against her neck, he let out a deep sigh in surrender. "I... Ginevra, you're the only woman I've ever loved. I'll do anything you ask of me." Snuggling closer, he ran his lips over her bared shoulder. "But we need to talk about what just happened. There are some things you need to understand, and I think we should stay here when the chimes-"

They rang out just then, interrupting.

Behind her ribcage and in the pit of her guts, Ginny was relieved by the momentary disruption, because she was, simply put, terrified of what Blaise had been about to reveal about her 'latent powers.' She thought she already knew the truth deep inside, and it seriously freaked her out just to touch upon the possibility. Therefore, acting on pure protective instinct, she tried to convince herself that it had been just a weird happenstance; the mysterious melding of their auras had been no big deal really. It would probably never happen again, in fact.

It couldn't... Otherwise, it would mean something she wasn't ready to face yet.

She nudged his head over and smirked mischievously at him. "Let's go out to the others now. I rather like this game," she tremblingly told him in an artful attempt at misdirection, reaching for false bravado. "And I think I like that it'll force you to come up with new and inventive ways of proving your claim to the title of 'Sex God,' too." Playing to role, grinning like a shark, she squirmed out of his embrace and off his lap, disconnecting their bodies to quickly jet from the bed. "So, up and at 'em, lover boy! It's time to put your money where your mouth is."

Unfortunately, her teasing demeanor immediately shifted into another hissing wince as she made her feet. Godric's rod, she was tender! His size had split her in two, practically. Without a thought to its use, she picked up Blaise's wand from the mattress, cleaned it with a quick _Scourgify_, did the same to herself and to him, head to toe, and then cast a healing charm between her legs.

She was almost fully dressed when she noticed her wizard was still sitting, naked, on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Gathering up his clothing, Ginny got on her knees before him and took a hold of his wrists. "Blaise, please look at me," she gently coaxed, and he did. In his eyes was reflected a guilty remorse and a wariness that shot her straight through the heart. "Don't say you regret what we just did," she pleaded, scared now that he was going to tell her it was all a mistake and that they shouldn't do this anymore. Or worse, that he didn't want her after what she'd just done.

In growing anxiety over his continued silence, his almost shell-shocked assessment of her, she shoved his clothes and his wand into his arms and stood up, stepping back. Inside her chest, her heart throbbed. "I... maybe you just need some time," she murmured, knowing she was trying to ignore the two-ton pink elephant in the room and that he was shocked by such cowardly behaviour from her. But, the truth was, she didn't want to hear what he was going to substantiate about her powers, and she'd do just about anything right then and there to run from it, feeling emotionally fragile. It was like facing what Tom Riddle had done to her all over again – another life-altering revelation.

_Don't make me look at it too close, yet_, she silently begged, hating herself for being so gutless._ I'm not even seventeen yet. Let me deal with it then…_

Above her, thunder rumbled and the ceiling changed once more, becoming a swirling mass of dark clouds. Lightning flashed several times. One of them – maybe both – were projecting their feelings into the room without conscious thought.

Rubbing at her stinging eyes with the back of her hand, she pushed back tears. "I'll... I'll just... meet you outside, all right?"

Turning to flee, she was stopped by his hand grabbing hers and pulling her back. Blaise had jumped to his feet, dropped his clothing and desperately lunged for her. Wrapping his arms about her tightly, he fit himself against her back. "Don't run from it. This isn't you. You're stronger than this."

He let that implication settle between them; it sank into her stomach with the same dark, nauseating dread as the knowledge she'd acquired at the age of twelve as to what an atomic bomb was and how it was used by Muggles.

"I know you didn't mean to do it, Ginny," he explained softly, holding onto her as if his life depended upon it, "but you unleashed a new power here tonight accidentally, and it was that unintended influence that compelled me to become rough. It needs to be tempered so it won't happen again." He turned her so she would have to face him. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She did, and it paralyzed her with fear.

"Ginevra, you can face this," he encouraged her with gentle, yet firm insistence. "I'll help you. You're not alone, and I won't judge you for it. Just say it. Say it so you won't hide from the truth and hate yourself later. You are a lioness, not a lamb." He nuzzled her. "_My_ lioness."

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and spoke the truth aloud, her voice quavering.

"I'm a... a Sex-Witch, aren't I?"

He didn't have to say a thing to confirm or deny it; she knew it was true deep inside. Her heart sank with dread.

Oh, Godric Almighty, she was one of _them - _one of 'the unfortunate undesirables' in the wizarding world. One of those pathetic beings her mother had disparaged and warned her away from whenever they strayed too close to the entrance of Knockturn Alley and sibilant voices called out to them from the gloomy shadows, offering them a good time in exchange for coin. How could such a thing happen? What would everyone say once they found out? Her parents would disown her! Her friends would distance themselves from her, afraid of such an influence on them and their reputations. She would be an outcast, on the fringes, looked at with pity and disgust. She began to cry, pathetic whimpers escaping from between her lips. How did it happen? Why her?

Blaise's arms around her tightened and he cradled her to him with love. "I don't want you to be afraid of it. I can help you through this." He embraced her to his chest, running his hands over her long hair soothingly. "I'm here for you, love. I won't leave you, I promise."

"How can _you_ help me?" she cried out with a half-sob, half-laugh, feeling crazed. "I'm cursed!"

Her wizard sighed. "It's not a curse, my lioness. It's a gift, if you channel it right. Let me show you."

It was then that she felt her own aura pushed against by his. With only a moment's pause, he flowed his magical energies over her, into her, calming her, giving her his strength and love, seducing her all over again. Her body erupted in molten fire, tightening with almost painful, uncontrollable need, causing her to gasp and reach out for him. Ginny understood in the second his own powers touched hers, how it was that he could help her: they were the same - had always been so. Unknown equals from the start.

The storm above them continued to churn and roil with inky blackness punctuated by increasing lightning flashes. They both ignored it, as Blaise kissed her all the way to the bed, laying her back into it. He removed her knickers, pushed her jacket open, smoothed her dress up, and with an easy adjustment of her legs, he entered her with one quick thrust. They both gasped, but there was no time to tarry as the desire thundered through them, sweeping them away on a tsunami of feeling. He pulsed through her aura again, heightening her need, even as he began plunging his hard cock into her with desperation. "Feel me, Ginevra," he breathed against her lips, stealing her breath away again. "Know the _real _me... as I've always wanted."

He pounded her into the mattress with sensual grace, his aura combining with hers, twining them up irrevocably. No longer were they Yin and Yang – polar opposites, needing each other, but pushing away at the same time - but now, they existed as an Ouroboros: a single being with no ending, no beginning, no existing without the other. His heart, hers. Her heart, his.

"I knew it," he groaned as he pistoned in and out of her tight channel. "You've always called to me." He pulled her bra down and suckled on her nipple with pressure, leaving a love bite over her heart, only then returning his mouth to hers, nipping and kissing with a passion that bordered on madness. "You were always meant to be mine." He punctuated the thought with a hard thrust. "We were made for each other."

"Yes, _yes!_" Ginny cried out in acceptance as another shattering climax that caused her spine to bow, her heart to burst, and her soul to be reborn. "I'm yours. All yours," she whimpered against his lips.

He came deep inside of her in that exact moment, yelling his love for her to the lightening sky above. The storm was ending, it seemed.

"I love you, Blaise," she wept into the bend of his shoulder in the aftermath, her heart in her mouth. "I love you. I do." They kissed and it was pure, shining light behind her eyelids as their golden auras continued to stroke each other gently.

"I'll teach you to control this," he whispered, panting, buzzing her lips and speaking low. "But you can't tell anyone. It has to be our secret, love. You know why."

She nodded in understanding and agreement. _Our secret…_

Someone knocked on the door in severe agitation; they only just noticed it in the resumed quiet as the tempest above completely evaporated. Blaise sighed and pulled his spent member out of her, standing with some effort. "Don't move," he pointed at her, but Ginny was already wiggling under the covers, not wanting anyone else to see her naked.

Summoning a white, satin robe for himself with a mental thought, Blaise threw it on, tied it off and made his way to the door. Malfoy was standing there, smirking. His gaze roamed down his friend's body, then over to her on the bed. Her lover immediately moved to stand in the way, preventing the other Slytherin from getting more than a peek.

"So, which of you called Forfeit first?" his smarmy voice inquired. "For the record."

"I did," both she and Blaise said at the same time. He looked at her over his shoulder with annoyance, then back at his friend. "I did," he reiterated firmly. "Gryffindor's ahead by one. Is that all you need?"

She couldn't see Slytherin's Captain, but she could practically envision his disappointed frown. "No, I guess that's it. We'll call on you when the game ends or if you're needed for anything, like a card that requires the group to be present to fulfill. Oh, and when you get hungry or thirsty, because you're not playing the cards anymore, you have to summon Dobby from the kitchens. He knows what's going on and Potter swore him to secrecy. The food stuff only works if there's a card requiring it, remember?"

There was a significant pause then, and Ginny wished just then she could see the expressions that the two best friends traded. Malfoy broke the peace again.

"Just don't forget to cast the C&DC every hour. No accidents." He _tsk'd._ "Have fun."

With that, Blaise shut the door and locked it once more. He returned to the bed, shucked his robe and climbed under the covers with her. Immediately, she sought out his embrace, needing reassurance, her whole world having just come unglued in the span of a mere hour.

"Rest now, love," he advised. "You're going to be insatiable in a little while now that you've 'awoken.' Trust me."

As if her lover's words alone held the power of suggestion, Ginny's eyes felt suddenly very heavy, and in another second or two, darkness claimed her. Her last thought made her smile.

_He's like me... and he loves me!_

* * *

**_TO BE CONTINUED..._**

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

******PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter, folks? It is a **_**long**_** one, but **important things _had_ to happen here now for the rest of the story's over-arcing plot. Hope you don't mind!

.

**Blaise's wand is never specified in the novels, and there are no official replicas of it anywhere, so basically, I could make it anything I wanted. **

**Purpleheart wood: A wood of Elemental Water. It is an exotic, tropical hardwood with very long, coarse fibers, and so difficult to carve without splitting. This bespeaks the wood's sensitivity and flexibility. It is of a medium density and heaviness and can be finished to a lustrous smoothness which captures its remarkable purplish-red color. Purpleheart is well-suited for work with the heart chakra (it is good for emotional, as well as physical healing, for opening up the seat of compassion and generosity, and for any work involving the blood). Its color gives it attunement to the violet and ultraviolet frequencies of magick, which are those centered on control, especially over other magick. (source: www . bardwood ).**

**Ginny's wand is never specified in the novels, as far as I can tell (someone please correct me). However, the Noble Collection made a series of Dumbledore's Army wands, as well as an individual wand that looks exactly the same for Ginny Weasley's personal release. The description is: Holly, 10 inches long, and its core is a hair from the tail from a Unicorn.**

**Holly wood: A wood of Elemental Fire. It is a very fine-grained, hard and smooth wood, almost ivory in color if it is not stained. An exquisite wood for wands, Holly is a powerful, protective wood, good against evil spirits, poisons, angry elementals and lightning. It is also associated with dream magick and fertility, and is well-suited for any magick dealing with the overthrow of old authorities, or spells seeking progress to a new stage of development. Holly is second only to Oak for its sacred regard by the Druids. (source: www . bardwood ).**

_**Convenio**_** – Latin for "to meet (implied: to come together)".**

_**Compingo**_** – Latin for "to join together".**

**Janae – (pronounced 'ja-NAY') Welsh/English female name, meaning 'God is Gracious.' Also refers to the colour 'red.'**

**Gwenhwyfar – (pronounced 'GWEN-wa-var') Welsh female name, composed of the elements **_**gwen**_** meaning "fair, white" and **_**hwyfar**_** meaning "smooth". The Norman French version is From the Norman French form is Guinevere.**

****.

**Musical Selection this Chapter: "Naturally" by Selena Gomez. Lyrics are as follows…**

_**How you choose to express yourself,**_  
_**It's all your own, and I can tell… **_  
_**It comes naturally.**_  
_**It comes naturally.**_

_**You follow what you feel inside;**_  
_**Listen to it, if you don't have to try…**_  
_**It comes naturally.**_  
_**Mmmmm, it comes naturally.**_

_**And it takes my breath away,**_  
_**What you do so naturally.**_

_**You are the thunder and I am the lightning!**_  
_**And I love the way you know who you are,**_  
_**And to me it's exciting when you know it's meant to be!**_  
_**Everything comes naturally…**_  
_**It comes naturally when you're with me, baby.**_  
_**Everything comes naturally…**_  
_**It comes naturally, baby.**_

_**You have a way of moving me,**_  
_**A force of nature... Your energy… **_  
_**It comes naturally. **_  
_**(you know it does)**_  
_**It comes naturally.**_  
_**Mmmm, yeah.**_

_**And it takes my breath away,**_  
_**(everytime)**_  
_**What you do so naturally.**_

_**You are the thunder and I am the lightning!**_  
_**And I love the way you know who you are,**_  
_**And to me it's exciting when you know it's meant to be!**_  
_**Everything comes naturally…**_  
_**It comes naturally when you're with me, baby.**_  
_**Everything comes naturally…**_  
_**It comes naturally, baby.**_

_**When we collide, sparks fly!**_  
_**When you look in my eyes it takes my breath away!**_

_**You are the thunder and I am the lightning!**_  
_**And I love the way you know who you are,**_  
_**And to me it's exciting when you know it's meant to be!**_  
_**Everything comes naturally…**_  
_**It comes naturally when you're with me, baby.**_  
_**Everything comes naturally…**_  
_**It comes naturally, baby.**_

_**Naturally…**_  
_**Everything, baby, comes naturally.**_


	30. Chapter 6: The 5th Question

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: "erb" **__recommended the song, __**"No Other Love" by John Legend & Estelle **__for this go around. So, this chapter is dedicated to erb - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

_**P.S. Unseenlibrarian**__ - thank you for taking time out of your super busy life to beta this story for us again. We are all very grateful for you love and devotion to this story!_

* * *

_**CHAPTER SIX: THE 5th QUESTION**_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland**_

_**Room of Requirement**_

_**Sunday, June 14, 1998 (12:40 am)**_

Hermione's gaze strayed unwillingly again to her partner, despite Lavender's quietly murmured inquiry regarding Ginny's continued participation; their friend hadn't appeared from her suite yet, and it was now past the ten minute overtime mark. Malfoy stared with arrogant, unflinching eloquence right back, sharing a secret smile with her that made her stomach turn somersaults and her heart rate patter like mad.

The man's appeal had skyrocketed after the last action round, and her opinion of him had gone through a dramatic shift as well. His offer to make her a partner in his company implied that even if this game was nothing more than a one-off opportunity, he would not be impugning her reputation or attempting to abuse her later regarding the events of tonight. True, she didn't have an iron-clad contract in hand yet, but his sincerity regarding the proposal seemed believable; she trusted her instincts enough to have faith that it wasn't all an elaborate and well-acted ruse to win her favor.

And therein lay the quandary…

Everything she'd assumed she'd known about Draco Malfoy had, in the course of four hours, been turned entirely on its head. He was witty, charming, sensual, intelligent, stylish, debonair and thoughtful. Of course, there still lurked deep inside the boy she'd known for years; one could never erase their core personality permanently, after all. Yet, at the center of his hot-cold mood swings, there was also understandable logic: plainly, he was still unsure of _her_ intentions towards _him_ (despite the fact she'd been, in her opinion, rather forthcoming about her attraction to him over the last few rounds), and she feared that as a result, he would fall back upon old habits, namely snapping at her in jealousy or in defensiveness…

…not that she wasn't _just_ as willing to repay in kind, to be fair. Her own temper was quite a volatile thing at times, she knew.

Still, the fact that her one-time former rival was beginning to take on the aspect of an obsession (a level up from 'infatuation') was somewhat troubling, for she was still unsure if this was a natural progression, based upon the set of rather intoxicating last few rounds, or if this was a result of the magic of the cards. Her eyes moved to the decks lying innocuously on the table before her. Just how harmless was this card game, truly?

"Someone should check on Ginny," Harry uneasily stated, glancing at his pocket watch. "It's already three minutes past the last chime."

"And Daphne and Blaise," Tracey commented, staring at the two empty spots to her right.

Hermione's eyes tracked Malfoy as he stood up, pulled the hem of his shirt down and nodded. "I'll go get Blaise and the She-Weasel," he offered. She watched his arse as he walked away, and couldn't help the clenching of her womb as her mind imagined it naked…

To her right, Ron growled under his breath about pompous ferrets, just as Pansy turned to her own right and slugged a suspiciously quiet Teddy in the arm. "What did you do to her?" she demanded, and Hermione remembered that Daphne was Pansy's best girl friend.

Teddy had his elbow on the arm of the couch and his hand over his eyes. He looked terribly unhappy, as evident by the heavily lined frown. He didn't even flinch or look up when Pansy struck him. "I didn't do anything," he muttered. "I think…" He stopped, swallowed with emotion, and Hermione wondered if he was on the verge of tears or not, but couldn't rightly tell. "She might not want to play anymore."

Something about the way he said that had Hermione's heart slamming under her ribs in anxiety. Malfoy had said his best guy friend had a penchant for pain… She stood up abruptly. "Teddy, did you hurt her? Tell the truth."

He sniffed in cynical denial. "Try the other way around," he grit in anger, getting to his feet and walking to the loo, not looking back.

Unsure as to what he'd meant by that exactly, her feet were traveling to his suite before she'd even registered her intentions. At her side, walked a silent Pansy. There was a tension in the air between them, and in it, Hermione could taste an undercurrent of fear. Apparently, Pansy also knew Teddy's temper and private fetishes.

She let Slytherin's Queen knock on the door and open it, before closing it behind them as they entered the room Daphne shared with Teddy. The lingering scent of sex was strong in the air, but with a quick glance, Hermione could see no blood or implements that might be used to cause pain. There was a funky-looking chair and a table, but aside from that, no other furniture in the room. Daphne was huddled against the wall nearby, her face hidden in her arms, which lay across her knees. She was sobbing.

Pansy knelt down quickly at the blonde's side. "Daph, sweet, what happened?" Her voice was soft, concerned, and when she reached out to pet her friend's hair, her touch was soothing and gentle. This was a side of Pansy that Hermione would never have guessed even existed. The Slytherins were surprising her tonight, left and right.

Greengrass shook her head, looking up at her friend. "He tried to confess that he had fallen in love with me, but I prevented him from doing so. I was afraid to hear the words, even though they are all I have wished to hear for years." She closed her eyes, slumping in defeat. "I have ruined it all - ruined _us_," she confessed in an uncharacteristic outpouring of emotion, her pretty cheeks streaked with tears.

Hermione was taken aback. Teddy loved Daphne? When had that happened? She'd been under the impression that the two had only a mild interest (if that, on Greengrass' part) in each other prior to this game. Then again, they _were_ Slytherins, and one never knew what went through the minds of that lot of characters. Take Pansy, for instance. Hermione had always assumed the woman despised the very ground Ron trod upon. And Blaise Zabini had made it clear every single time he'd glared at Ginny that he meant to do bad things to her. Then there was Malfoy…

As she considered each couple again, she reaffirmed her suspicions that all of them - not just the Slytherins, but the Gryffindors as well - had apparently formed strong, almost irrational attachments to their partners in a mere few hours. Was this proof of the influence of the cards, or was it, as Draco had postulated, the result of being forced into intimate situations with each other?

"Why would you think that?" Pansy prompted, drawing Hermione back to the conversation at hand. The brunette scooted strands of that long, golden hair back behind Daphne's ear. "Tell me what happened."

For a moment, Hermione thought she was an interloper on the conversation, and considered leaving, but Daphne quashed that with her next words.

"He said he was considering forfeiting the game if I could not be the woman he needs."

Hermione's ire shot through the roof. "Teddy tried to badger you into having sex with him and threatened to ditch you if you refused?" she snarled, her hands clenching in fists. How dare he, the bastard! The dog was up to his old tricks _again! _"Malfoy and Harry should be told. That's a flagrant abuse of the rules!"

Standing to her feet, Daphne shook her head and rubbed the back of her hand across her cheeks. "You misunderstand. It was not like that at all. He has all but asked me to be his steady girl after tonight, but I… I cannot. He does not understand, and I cannot offer him explanations, due to the nature of my reasoning." She was now wringing her hands. "It is _I _who has hurt _him_, but I cannot find the words to explain adequately."

Pansy slowly got to her feet as well, her knees cracking from the pressure. "_You_ can't find the words?" She shook her head. "I can't say I understand that a bit, Daph. You're the most articulate person I know."

Greengrass looked positively ill and despairing. "It is not a deficient vocabulary that restrains my ability to explain the circumstances. The issue revolves around the premise that if Theo were to discover my reason for denying him his heart's desire, he would come to despise me for not divulging such pertinent, irrevocable constraints in advance. Simply put, he would believe I had led him on."

Pansy gasped, her face paling, and grabbed her friend's hands, holding them up between them. "You're not… your parents haven't arranged a marriage for you, have they?" she asked skittishly, clearly distressed by the possibility.

Hermione was floored. "Arranged a marriage? Who does such a thing here in England anymore? This isn't the Dark Ages!"

Parkinson turned hard eyes on her, his mouth set for battle. "It is an ancient and noble custom for pureblooded witches of the peerage to be established by their parents upon their coming-of-age. It is a great honor, and maintains the blood lineages." She said it as if it were well-rehearsed speech, but there was a sneer on that pretty countenance as she spoke, and _that_ told Hermione more than anything that Pansy did not, in any fashion, truly buy into the garbage she was regurgitating. Still, Hermione had remembered her lesson from insulting Draco's traditions earlier, so she bit her tongue on the subject.

Daphne saved them from any possibility of argument by shaking her head. "Astoria and I will have no need to align ourselves according to such a convention, as my older sister, Amelia, took up that mantle of responsibility when she married Lucian Bole a few years back. My younger sibling and I are free to marry whom we choose now, so long as the wizard comes from pureblood stock." She sniffed, and Hermione conjured a handkerchief from the room and handed it over to the pretty blonde, who took it with a gracious 'thank you' and proceeded to wipe her nose delicately. "No, there is no arranged marriage for me waiting after graduation, but a different type of arrangement altogether – one I fear my Theo will not understand, nor respect." She closed those blue-gray orbs of hers in dejected misery and began crying again. "He will never forgive me, nor will he want me once the truth is revealed."

Pansy hugged her friend to her. "It can't be that bad, Daph. And even if it is, your friends will help you out of it, no matter what."

Daphne shook her head. "I am bound by oath and blood. I cannot walk away from this contract."

Hermione knew a thing or two about contracts, having done a fair amount of research for the extracurricular lecture series that she'd signed up for this year (as part of the new educational decree by the Ministry to better prepare the Seventh Years for a career immediately after graduation). "I wouldn't be so hasty to say that. Every contract has a loophole." She raised a finger and wagged it at the other woman, giving her a wink. "It only requires you to find and exploit it."

Slytherin's reigning monarch looked at her over her friend's shoulder, one dark eyebrow raised in interest. Hermione shrugged. "I opted for the Wizarding Law class with Binns this year," she explained.

Turning back to her friend, Pansy put on a forced smile. "You see, Daph, Granger here'll help you. She's not Head Girl and Valedictorian for nothing!"

That wasn't exactly what Hermione had in mind, but if she could offer her assistance (she _was_ rather good at research, and had made a few solicitor contacts as a result of going to the Ministry for her final class research project), then she would happily do so. "Monday morning, if you want, you and I can sit down and take a look at this contract, Daphne," she tendered. "I'm not promising anything, but maybe we can find an ambiguity you can manipulate."

The flaxen-haired witch looked at her for several moments in silence, dabbing at her nose with the kerchief. "What would you expect in return?" she finally asked, sounding resigned.

Hermione felt her brows hit the ceiling; she had clearly forgotten the nature of Slytherins when she'd made the offer. "Nothing. I'm not looking to profit from the proposal. I might not even be able to help, honestly. But if there's a chance, and it'll help you and Teddy to reconcile, then it's worth it."

Greengrass looked down at the handkerchief in her hand, folding it carefully into perfect squares. "I was under the impression that you and Theo had had a falling out, Miss Granger." She'd tried to sound unfazed by the idea, but her words trembled off her tongue there at the end.

Sighing, Hermione realized that she had misunderstood the situation entirely. Apparently, Daphne was as threatened by her past 'relationship' with Teddy as Draco had been. "Well, yes, he's behaved like a complete prat over the last year. But I'll tell you what I told Malfoy: Teddy and I dated for two weeks back in Sixth Year, and he dropped me flat when I wouldn't give him what every sixteen-year old guy wants." She shrugged. "It was nothing major, and is all in the past as far as I'm concerned. I don't wish him ill. In fact," she grinned slyly, "I'm rather amused by the idea that he's about to have his libido finally reined in. If I can help that along, all the better for the rest of womankind."

Pansy looked at her with wide, enlightened eyes. "Well, well… It seems Potter wasn't the only one who might have been sorted into Slytherin if things had been different."

Hermione looked down at Daphne's nervous hands, refusing to divulge any private information about her sorting unless require to by the cards. Only Ginny knew the truth, and she'd like to keep it that way, if possible. "In any case, the offer is on the table," she maneuvered around the discussion, getting back on track. "If you want me to look at the contract, bring it to me on Monday. We'll go through it together. I don't mind. It'll give me something to do, since the Graduation Ball's plans have been finalized and Professor McGonagall has taken the lead on managing the event. I'll have plenty of idle time this week, aside from Wednesday, when it's back to dress shopping."

"Couldn't have that now, could we, Granger? Idle time, that is to say," Pansy teased with a grudgingly respectful smile, her tone light-hearted – friendly, almost.

Beating a hasty retreat at that point, seeing Daphne pluck up a bit (Pansy helping to make the other witch presentable once more), Hermione made her way back to the couches, quietly closing the door behind to give the two women a bit more privacy. When she got back, she noted that Draco and Teddy were missing, as were Davis, Zabini and Ginny. Ron, Seamus and Harry were on the other side of the room, talking quietly. Lavender jumped up from the couch as soon as Hermione put in an appearance.

"You missed the excitement," her roommate immediately glommed onto her. "Blaise and Ginny forfeited! Malfoy intimated they'd been having sex!"

Hermione's jaw dropped at first, and then snapped shut with annoyance. She'd secretly been counting on Ginny's rock-hard attitude to keep her own resolve not to be conquered by Malfoy on the straight and narrow path. Now she was alone and awash in an ocean of feelings, and could only hope her will was enough to keep her from falling under the sway of the cards and their powerful magical current. "Which one gave in first?" she huffed.

Lavender's grin was positively feral. "Zabini claimed it. We all heard him from the open doorway. Our team's up by one."

Glancing down at the card decks on the table again, Hermione bit her lip in serious consternation. Had they swayed her best girl friend's attitude, or had Zabini's natural charm done it? She just didn't have enough empirical evidence yet to make the call; all of these odd hook-ups could easily be explained away as teenaged hormones coupled with natural attraction.

"Nott's still in the loo hiding out. Malfoy went in after him," her friend continued her tongue-wagging. "Was Greengrass all right?"

Not wanting to appear rude for only partial attention, Hermione looked back at her friend. "Shaken up. She and Teddy had a fight."

Lavender snorted. "That one's got a volatile temper on him. He's up and down as much as a First Year on a broom."

Hermione hummed in agreement, nodding. "Pansy's helping to cheer her, though. She'll be out in a few minutes. I think it was touch-and-go about them forfeiting for a few minutes there – on her side, anyway."

Her Housemate lightly slapped her on the arm. "You should have let them! Then we'd be up by two."

That thought hadn't even occurred to Hermione, honestly. Shrugging at the lost opportunity, she approached the boys in the corner, Lavender trailing behind her. They turned as one and watched the approach of their teammates.

"Ginny's out, Zabini forfeited," Harry started to tell her, but she waved him off.

"Lav caught me up. Greengrass and Nott had a row, but she's coming back out in a bit," she informed them. "Where's Davis?"

Harry indicated the women's loo with a nod of his head.

"Not a bad idea, that," Seamus agreed, and headed for the men's without another word, pressing a kiss to Lavender's cheek on the way past.

The witch blushed and watched her beau walk away, smiling like a fool, and Ron nudged her playfully. "You and Sea back on then?" he asked, a teasing light to his aqua eyes.

Brown merely raised an eyebrow at her sometimes-lover. "How about you and Parkinson?"

Ron's head shot around at the sound of Daphne's door opening, and Pansy leading her best girl friend out, talking to her in low tones, holding onto her hand for support as they headed back to the couches together. His eyes were practically glowing with a possessive lust, trained as they were on his partner. "_Hell. Yes._" He glanced at Lav out of the corner of his eye. "Sorry."

The blonde shook her head. "Don't be. I'm a little surprised by how well you two have got on given your history, but I'm happy for you. You look… good together, honestly."

"Even if she _is_ a Slytherin," Harry piped in playfully.

Ron snorted. "You're one to talk, Sucky-Face."

Harry had his hands clasped behind his back and he rocked on his heels, grinning like a lovesick kneazle. "Yes, well, it's allowed. We're dating now," he announced proudly, watching as the woman in question exited the bathroom and made her way back across the room. "It's alright to kiss a lot under such circumstances." As Davis approached the seating area, Hermione watched her best male friend's face alter from foppish to passionately heated. "Speaking of… talk to you later," he murmured, and made his way over to his… well, _girlfriend_ now, it seemed… and immediately took her in his arms (her own arms going about his neck naturally in a smooth motion). The two touched foreheads, talking in whispers, their conversation occasionally punctuated with gentle kisses. It was a rather romantic display that had Hermione's cheeks warming up.

Ron's hand on her shoulder brought her around. "How about you, 'Mione?" he asked, concerned. "Are you being… treated well?"

Remembering the events of last round, Hermione's temperature rose ten points, and her face positively blazed. "Yes, Malfoy's been… a gentleman, surprisingly. I'm have a lovely time with him. And I'm finding that I rather like him, odd as that sounds. He's charming now that he's all grown up." She looked into her other best friend's face and smiled. "He's not how I expected."

Her ex- assessed her for a moment, those pretty blue-green eyes of his burrowing to the core to find truth in her words, and then finally, he nodded, accepting her at her word. "Just be careful, yeah? I think… He seems kind of…"

"Smitten?" Lavender chimed in.

Ron's lips twisted, as if it pained him to admit it. "Yeah, definitely smitten with you. Maybe more than that - and for a lot longer than just tonight."

Hermione felt her heart speed up again under her breast. Her partner had intimated during their conversations that he'd been somewhat taken with her for the last three and a half years, since the Yule Ball, but the revelation that even Ron – who was basically clueless about emotions most of the time – thought Malfoy had stronger feelings than a mere passing infatuation (coupled as it was with a definite physical attraction) spoke tomes. Was there more to Draco's interest in her than simply the desire to get into her knickers and to use her brains to achieve his business aims? The idea made her chest ache and her body tighten with need.

She looked down, crossing her arms over herself to hide the evidence of her arousal. "I'll be careful," she promised. "You, too. Both of you."

Lavender, who was only an inch taller than her without heels (but two inches more so in them) hugged her from behind, leaning her chin on Hermione's shoulder in a sisterly fashion. "Sea's asked me to be his, too," she admitted with a sigh of longing and a smile in her tone. "We're working through our issues still, but I think there's good possibility for a solid future. He's… amazingly sweet… and yummy. Just don't tell him I said that."

"I promise not ta say a thing, angel," Seamus teased from behind, and Lavender squeaked when she was forcibly drawn away from Hermione and into his arms. "The man's ego's already outta control, yeah?" He snogged her while grinning ridiculously.

Ron rolled his eyes in disgust. "This is getting too mushy for me. I'm out." He was smirking despite his censorious commentary when he walked back to the couches, sitting on his side to considerately give Pansy and Daphne their private girl time. Having nothing to do at the moment, he leaned back into the cushions of the sofa and closed his eyes, resting them.

Hermione thought that an excellent idea, herself. Although she'd napped this afternoon in preparation for being up late tonight, she found her body starting to drag. Crawling up into the couch at Ron's side, she leaned towards the empty spot that Ginny had previously occupied, and once more was forced to accept that her friend wouldn't be back to participate; she was too busy shagging her brains out with a man known to break hearts as easily as his two male Slytherin friends. She hoped the redheaded witch knew what she was getting into… Closing her eyes, she'd only intended upon a quick respite.

Ten minutes later, she was being shaken awake by Harry. "We're starting again," he informed her, and he helped her to sit up.

"Back from Kadath and the Dreamlands, finally," her partner drawled teasingly from across the way.

It took a moment for her mind to process what Malfoy had just said, and then Hermione was sitting forward on the sofa, hands gripping the cushions tight, having recognized the literary reference. "You've read H.P. Lovecraft?"

He looked at her like she was daft. "Of course. He was only one of the more famous Slytherins in history. Well, he was until his two aunts pulled him out of Hogwarts and moved him back to America during the summer before his Fourth Year so he could attend Miskatonic instead."

Tracey gave an "ooh!" in excitement. "Isn't he that half-blood author whose mural is in the Common Room - the one who wrote about that weird squid-faced monster who lived in the ocean?" she asked.

"Yes, that's the bloke. And it's Cthulhu," Draco replied offhandedly. "Lovecraft's eccentric imagination caused him to suffer a mental breakdown at the end of his Third Year and he was withdrawn from Hogwarts as a result; kept on and on about imaginary creatures he called 'Night Gaunts' haunting the dungeons."

Ron snorted. "Sounds like a complete nutter."

Hermione slugged her best guy friend's arm; Ron had _dared_ to insult one of her favorite authors. "On the contrary, H.P. Lovecraft is considered one of the most brilliant horror writers of this century. His stories have inspired hundreds of other celebrated novelists, poets, and playwrights in the field, and he was a contemporary and friend to many renowned authors of his time as well, including Robert Howard, who wrote the _Conan_ series."

Her ginger-haired ex- sat up now with interest. "Isn't that the story of that huge barbarian bloke who went around swinging a sword, fighting evil, and having-at busty babes in reward?"

Throwing him an exasperated, flat-eyed stare, Hermione snuffed in annoyance. "Very Philistine of you, Ronald, but yes, you have the basic outline. Apparently, the fact that the series single-handedly launched the pulp 'sword and sorcery' genre in Muggle writing seems utterly eclipsed by its descriptions of expert sword handling and lewd encounters with scantily-clad Valkyries, however." She tsk'd in distaste.

"Hey, what's there not to like about chicks in chain-mail bikinis?" he gave a shite-eating grin, and then leered across the aisle at his partner. "Whaddya say, baby?" He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Care to play dress-up for me?"

Pansy giggled, her face coloring neon red. "We'll talk. We'll see." Her too-bright eyes, however, spoke volumes about her willingness to try such an outrageous cosplay fantasy for her man's pleasure.

Harry cleared his throat. "Not that this topic isn't interesting, but… haven't we already got a rather interesting fetish game going on here and now?" His emerald gaze roved up and down his girlfriend's form boldly and a small, mysterious smile graced his lips. "I'd like to get back to it, if you don't mind."

Tracey was blushing, and started when she realized that her partner had just given her the cue to read the next question, as it was her turn. Bending forward, she pulled the top card off the green deck, reading it quickly. "Oh, well, this one isn't so bad." She cleared her throat. "If you had to snog someone tomorrow at the breakfast table in the dining hall in front of everyone, who would you choose?"

Play moved immediately to the blonde's left – to Malfoy.

Her partner grinned over at her, as relaxed as the cat that ate the proverbial canary. He looked with feigned interest at his fingernails on his right hand as he spoke. "I think it's rather apparent to all and sundry by now that I'd pick you, Granger." He looked up pointedly, capturing and enchanting her thoroughly in that moment. "In case you missed the memo, I'd happily do _anything_ to you that you so desired, princess, with or without an audience."

Hermione felt her cheeks explode with brilliant color as a naughty image of him laying her back on a table in the Great Hall and unabashedly ripping her knickers off and diving in, eating her pussy out, uncaring of observers, flashed through her mind... Holy hellcats, she was going to seriously need a blow dryer for her thighs before this night was over!

As Draco reached for a red card, play passed to Seamus. The Irish grabbed a _Deeds_ card off the top of the deck, and turned to his partner. Tilting Lavender's face towards his, he kissed her senseless right there, without preamble. It was a sweet, intimate exchange. "I'd kiss ya anytime ya want, anywhere... forever, angel," he unashamedly admitted, his voice low, his eyes locked onto the witch in his arms.

Lavender nodded, clearly entranced by her man. "I'd pick you, too," she shyly admitted.

It took Ron clearing his throat to remind his former lover to draw an action card before he could answer. Absently, Lavender picked up a card from the proper stack, and immediately turned back to her beau. The couple then became lost in tasting each other somewhat relentlessly, clearly tuning out the rest of the proceedings.

Ron snickered, and looked across the way at his own partner. That wicked smile climbed up his cheek slowly. "There won't be any 'if' come Monday, baby," he told Pansy bluntly. He licked his lips, and his gaze traveled possessively – knowledgeably – down the woman's body, and it became abundantly clear to Hermione that Ron and Pansy had had sex already, and her friend was seriously infatuated with Slytherin's Queen. "You're _mine_," he informed the dark-haired witch rather firmly. "And I'm lettin' everyone know it."

Pansy's face sheeted white as she stared back at her partner, and for the barest second, panic flashed in her eyes. It was quickly replaced by a hesitant smile in an attempt to cover up, but Hermione had seen it. The problem was that she was sure her ex- _hadn't_, as his eyes had firmly been locked on Pansy's chest just then. "O… okay," Parkinson agreed, her features set in accepting happiness. "I'd like that." The words had been delivered with some enthusiasm for the idea, but to Hermione, they rang false, and for a moment, she was sincerely worried for her clearly-besotted friend.

Ron's movement to take a card had her realize it was her turn now to answer the question.

Cheeks creeping with heat, shoulders tense, back ramrod straight, she forced herself to look up at Malfoy and finally admit that she was beginning to have real, heart-fluttering feelings for him. It took a lot of her inner courage to get the simple words past her teeth, however. "You," she admitted with a great amount of trepidation and a small amount of resignation, staring straight into the gray storm without flinching. "I'd pick you."

Draco's face softened with the decisive confession, as if he'd been concerned she wouldn't answer or would pick another person to name, and he rewarded her bravery with a genuine, approving smile that erased the shadows about his cheekbones, giving him back a touch of his long-lost innocence.

Had it been only a few days ago that she'd commented offhandedly to Ginny that she thought his face too serious and pinched and his eyes too icy and unfeeling?

Those luscious kissable lips of his drew her full attention again as they continued to curve into a fuller expression of pleasure. It made things in her belly turn over and melt. "I'd _definitely_ pick you," she heard herself breathlessly admit again, and was shocked by her own impassioned response.

"I'd let you," she watched his mouth form the words, and imagined that soft, pink tongue dipping into her slit…

Ron nudged her, rousing her from her fascination, and indicated she should take a card. Blushing to the roots of her hair, she reached for a red card and forced herself to stare at the image of Eros and Psyche embracing on the back of the laminated cardboard, struggling all the while to control her pounding heart.

To her left, Harry was all playful exuberance. "Let's see here… hmmm… who _would_ I pick?"

A flash of sudden movement through the air made Hermione look up quickly. A soft, white couch pillow smacked her best male friend in the head, having been teasingly thrown by Tracey. "Don't you dare say anyone else, Harry Potter!" the pretty blonde bantered, pointing at him in warning.

The dark-haired boy-turned-man (when _had_ that happened exactly, she wondered for not the first time, for it only seemed yesterday that he was eleven in her mind's eye) beamed a fresh grin at his new girlfriend. "As if I'd want to," he reassured her with a wink, fluffing the pillow and leaning back onto it. "Yours is the only kiss I want."

Tracey lowered her hand, her smile brightening. Twin pink blossoms appeared on her cheeks. "Really?"

Harry's face lost its teasing, and something much more masculine and dark crept into his verdant gaze for a moment. "I'll prove it to you in a few minutes," he promised, reaching for the proper-colored action card.

Davis looked like a doe caught in wand light at night; her blue eyes were wide, the pupils enlarged, her rosy lips were parted in partial surprise-partial eagerness, and her chest had simply ceased pumping air for several heartbeats. Her stillness was so absolute that it made Hermione hold onto her own breath, as she waited for a reaction. Finally, long, golden lashes blinked. "Okay."

It was only one word, but there was a wealth of meaning behind it, none of which Hermione was privy to. Harry, on the other hand, seemed inordinately pleased and he nodded, as if making some sort of silent accord with his lady.

Feeling like the fumbling gatecrasher during a private, intimate interlude (this was _Harry_, after all, and she didn't want to think about him as a sexual being, honestly), Hermione shifted, crossing her ankles, her gaze turning aside to the next player…

Teddy's concentration was directed towards the far wall; he didn't move to answer the question or to draw a card. Instead, he sat quietly, lost in thought. The brokenness reflected across his face and in his baby blue eyes said that he was suffering a difficult decision, and Hermione knew it was as Daphne Greengrass had described: he was considering whether to stay and try to make whatever he had discovered with Daphne tonight work, or whether to forfeit this game and walk away from her, the girl he had professed to love. She felt so sorry for him then – for them both.

No one was saying anything, not even Malfoy, who was assessing his best friend in silence. Daphne looked positively green around the gills, staring at her hands in her lap. Something had to be done… "Teddy," she murmured gently, not sure why she was sticking her neck out, knowing she'd probably end up on the wrong side of this as a result, but braving ahead anyway. "Give her the opportunity to explain."

Her one-time interest turned slowly to stare at her, his eyes hooded in forewarning that he would bite if she pressed the issue, his lips set in a thin, disapproving line. In that moment, he looked very much like a serpent.

Hermione refused to be intimidated. "Maybe that's what this game is all about, after all - taking chances," she firmly insisted.

His eyes shifted momentarily to Draco and then back to her.

She nudged her chin at the _Forfeits _deck with encouragement. "Take a blue card, and let's all keep going, right?"

Teddy's jaw twitched and he shook his head. "You want me to take a chance?" he growled and turned irately towards Daphne, who sat on the other side of Pansy. "Look at me," he demanded of his partner, his tone tightly controlled, hard. With amazing courage (the likes of which, Hermione honestly didn't think a Slytherin had within them), Daphne glanced up and over at his bidding. "I'd choose you. I want you," he stated very precisely to his witch, uncaring that there were others in the room just then, his whole self focused on the female who sat a mere arm's length away. "But so help me, Daphne, I won't let you toy with and tear out my heart for a night's amusement. It's all or nothing. If you don't feel for me the same as I do for you, then tell me now and be honest about it. Otherwise, I'm gone."

The blonde witch swallowed heavily and nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks again. With shaky hands, she took off her glasses. "I… I feel the same, Theo. I _truly_ do. But my future is uncertain, for reasons I would prefer not to speak of in public. Will you allow me the opportunity to discuss this with you further in private? I promise to divulge all you wish to know then."

He watched her warily for a good minute in anxious silence, measuring her up through narrowed, speculative eyes. With a curt nod, he reached forward for a _Deeds _card, settling the matter temporarily; he would give Daphne the time she'd requested to make her case. Perhaps it would be enough.

Nott sat back into the sofa cushions without another word, tapping his card against his inner thigh, his eyes never leaving his partner's face. _Awkward!_ Hermione thought, and tried to get Parkinson's attention so the woman would take her turn and break the stalemated uneasiness in the room. Slytherin's Queen was too busy holding her friend's hand and trying to support her, though. It took Ron to get them back on track.

"Hey, baby, this is your chance," he tried for light-hearted, catching Pansy's interest easily with a teasing tone, a mischievous smirk and a wink. "Say the right thing and there'll be a repeat of last round in your near future."

To Hermione's surprise, Pansy's face lit up like a rocket on Guy Fawkes Night, and the woman bit her lower lip coyly. "Promise?"

Ron nodded very decisively. "Oh, yeah."

Shaking her head, but smiling in amused disbelief, Pansy chuckled. "You know I'd pick you, muffin."

Harry chortled in great amusement over the rather silly nickname, and received another pillow to the head, compliments of Tracey (who had taken it from Pansy's hand). That only made the man bust out into hearty guffaws. "You are _so_ unromantic, Potter," Parkinson dryly told him. She turned to her left and looked over Daphne's head at her other female friend. "What do you possibly see in him, anyway?"

Tracey started giggling. "Well, he dances and sings well enough, and he gives me flowers. Oh, and his kisses _are_ rather nice. I suppose that's enough to keep him around."

Pansy's eyes widened. "Dances and sings… flowers…?" She slyly looked over at her own partner. "Is that so?"

Ron sat up, straight as an arrow at that. "Oh, hell no! I don't sing. You wouldn't want to hear that, trust me. Flowers – no problem. Singing and dancing – not a chance."

In that second, Pansy looked just like the cartoon version of Dr. Seuss' The Grinch when the evil, fat git had come up with his plan to rob Whoville of its Christmas; that same nefarious smirk said she was going to start watering away at the evil seed that had been planted in the fertile soil of her mind. "We'll talk. We'll see," she stated again, reaching forward for a red card.

Ron slumped back in the couch and glared over at Harry. "Thanks, fucker."

Harry sniggered. "You're welcome… muffin."

Play moved on to Daphne, who had not paid the previous few minutes of cheerful chitchat any attention, too caught up in her own misery. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she replaced her glasses on her nose, composing her features once more and sighed heavily. "I would choose Theo," she stated, and reached to take a card from this round's most popular deck. Her beau didn't respond to that; he just kept tapping his own card on his thigh, staring… staring…

Play finished with Tracey, who didn't bother with artifice. "Harry, obviously," she smilingly answered, and reached for a _Deeds_ card.

Malfoy, whose interest had been on _her_ for much of the round (at least, that's how it certainly _felt_ to Hermione), took charge immediately. "Alright, you know the drill. If you have to perform an action now, say so."

Everyone turned over their cards.

Hermione felt the rush of wet desire dampen her knickers as she finished reading her action card and she kept her thighs firmly clamped together in the hopes that her sudden longing wouldn't infuse the air and alert everyone in the room as to her state of now-throbbing arousal. Merlin Almighty, she couldn't _wait_ to have Malfoy perform this card on her!

Heart pounding loudly in her ears, she risked a glance over at her partner. His eyebrows were lifted in what appeared to be surprise, but when he met her stare, he leered. All right, what did _that_ mean this time?

When no one spoke up to perform an action, Draco stood. "Time, Potter," he drawled.

Harry reached into his pocket and checked his watch. "It's 1:26." He looked up. "Anyone tired yet? I can ask Dobby to bring us some strong tea."

Draco scoffed. "No need. I made in advance and brought along some restoratives – one for each of us." He reached into his Bag of Holding (she really must charm one of those handy, little things for her own use one of these days!) and pulled out a series of vials, handing one to each person. Hermione stood to accept one, and his long, well-manicured fingers intentionally caressed hers in the passing. "A single sip will give you the same energy as a cup of the blackest espresso coffee," he explained. "So be cautious and use it sparingly. I don't fancy petrifying someone because they're bouncing off the walls - literally."

As he tucked the charmed bag back into his front trouser pocket, he gently clinked vials with Hermione. "Cheers," he offered her and she returned the salute. They unstoppered their potions and each took a small sip, their eyes locked on the other. Having his warm body this close made her stomach riot.

When they'd finished, everyone put the corks back in tight and then laid their glass tubes down next to their _Partners_ cards on the main table. Thankfully, Hermione noted that Draco did not need to pick up his wand again… although Seamus did, as did Teddy. All of the women, of course, cast the C&DC on themselves at her urging before leaving their wands behind again.

"It's 1:32 now," Harry informed Draco.

"You have until 2:22 to get back out here," Malfoy told them all, and then offered her his arm. "Care to join me, beautiful?" he asked, smiling mysteriously.

Unwittingly drawn to him like a pixie to flame, Hermione reached out and tucked her arm into his. "Lead on, handsome."

Draco's eyebrows shot up and he grinned like the Cheshire Cat as he guided them to their room. "Well, at least your eyesight has improved now that you've stopped seeing the Weasel... and his brother."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "Are you sure all of those bludgers you took to the head over the years didn't give you brain damage?" she blithely asked. "I mean, anyone with any solid intelligence knows that it muffs-up their chances of getting a girl into bed if you rag on her best friends." Pinching his cheek merrily as they stopped at their door, she gave him an impish smile. "Then again, you are _only_ the Salutatorian. Maybe I'm just giving your lack of Quidditch skills too much credit for what is probably just an innate mental impairment?"

As she breezed past her partner, he leaned down and brushed her temple with a quick kiss. "Keep sniping like that and I'll give _you_ a bludgering you'll never forget, my witch." He gave her arse a firm swat to back up the promise, before closing the door behind them and locking them away from the outside world once more.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

******PLEASE REVIEW, FOLKS! What did you think of this chapter?**

.

**H.P. Lovecraft = A very famous American horror/scifi/fantasy writer from the 1920's – 40's. He is the man credited with coming up with most influential horror device in literary history – the **_**Necronomicon**_**, a fictional grimoire that contained all of the secrets of evil (necromancy, summoning evil gods, etc.). He also created the race of Old Ones and Elder Gods that authors the world over have since capitalized upon in their own writings, including the dreaded beast, Cthulhu. He is considered among the top five greatest horror influences in early literature, compared to the likes of Bram Stoker, Edgar Allan Poe, Mary Shelley, and Gaston Leroux. Read about the man here: en . wikipedia wiki / H._P._Lovecraft**

**Night Gaunts = Fictional creatures made up by H.P. Lovecraft for his stories. For the sake of this fic, I am pretending that even wizards think Lovecraft's claims of Night Gaunts to be bordering on nutter's city (Lovecraft would have been seen as being along the same lines as Luna Lovegood's numerous claims about mythological beasts and creatures). Read about them here: en . wikipedia wiki / Nightgaunt**

**Miskatonic = In H.P. Lovecraft's worlds, this is a fictional school/university located in Arkham, Massachusetts (a fictional city). For the sake of this fic, I am pretending that Miskatonic was a real wizarding school located in Arkham, Mass, but that Muggles don't know that (they believe it to be fiction). Read about it here: en . wikipedia wiki / Miskatonic_University**

**Mad as Hatters = Contrary to popular belief, the phrase "mad as a hatter" was common at the time Lewis Carroll wrote **_**Alice in Wonderland**_** (1865); the phrase had been in common use in 1837, almost 30 years earlier. The origin of the phrase, it's believed, is that hatters really **_**did**_** go mad. The chemicals used in hat-making included Mercurious Nitrate, used in curing felt. Prolonged exposure to the mercury vapors caused mercury poisoning. Victims developed severe and uncontrollable muscular tremors and twitching limbs, called "hatter's shakes"; other symptoms included distorted vision and confused speech. Advanced cases developed hallucinations and other psychotic symptoms. **

**Robert E. Howard = A very famous fantasy writer from the 1920's-30's, and friend of H.P. Lovecraft. Credited best with his creation of the **_**Conan the Barbarian**_** series (through a series of correspondence between them, Lovecraft influenced Howard's creation myth for the universe of **_**Conan**_**, in fact). Howard is considered the second most influential author in the fantasy genre, behind only J.R.R. Tolkien (**_**The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings**_**). Read about the man here: en . wikipedia wiki / Robert_E._Howard**

****.

**Musical Selection for this Chapter: **_**"No Other Love" by John Legend & Estelle. Lyrics are as follows...**_

**(man to woman singing)**

_**No other love,**_  
_**No other touch,**_  
_**Gimme, gimme oh, so much.**_  
_**Turn me on, turn me on...**_

_**Won't you please get outta my head?**_  
_**Get back into my bed, now come kiss me, come with me...**_  
_**Cause I can hardly sleep without you, can't stop thinkin' bout you, girl.**_  
_**I want you, I need you.**_

_**And I'm ready for love, ready for us to lose control.**_  
_**You know and I know...**_

_**No other love,**_  
_**No other touch,**_  
_**Gimme, gimme oh, so much.**_  
_**Turn me on, turn me on...**_

_**No other kiss,**_  
_**No one like this,**_  
_**Feelin' like I can't resist.**_  
_**Turn me on, turn me on...**_

_**I had my share of lovers,**_  
_**But there is no other girl, you're special, now let's go.**_

_**Cause, love, I want you more than ever, want to do whatever - now -**_  
_**To keep you, I need you.**_

_**And I'm ready for love, ready for us to lose control.**_  
_**You know and I know...**_

_**No other love,**_  
_**No other touch,**_  
_**Gimme, gimme oh, so much.**_  
_**Turn me on, turn me on...**_

_**No other kiss,**_  
_**No one like this,**_  
_**Feelin' like I can't resist.**_  
_**Turn me on, turn me on...**_

**(woman to man singing)**

_**I said you're turnin' me on, now.**_  
_**Said you're turnin' me on.**_  
_**Said you're turnin me on.**_

_**From your smile to your lips to the words of the song...**_  
_**I know I used to say I was too young,**_  
_**Now I'm grown up.**_  
_**I got you when you need that strong, real goody-good loving.**_

_**Stevie Wonder said, "it's been so long,**_  
_**and I'm a give it if you need it.**_  
_**Are you ready to receive it?"**_  
_**Boy, i wanna give you some love,**_  
_**wanna give you some love and affection.**_  
_**You got my attention.**_

**(both together)**

_**And I'm ready for love, ready for us to lose control.**_  
_**You know and I know...**_

_**No other love,**_  
_**No other touch,**_  
_**Gimme, gimme oh, so much.**_  
_**Turn me on, turn me on...**_

_**No other kiss,**_  
_**No one like this,**_  
_**Feelin' like I can't resist.**_  
_**Turn me on, turn me on, turn me on...**_


	31. Chapter 6A: Theodore & Daphne

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**MissGumiho **__recommended the song, __**"**_**Save Tonight**_**" by Eagle Eye Cherry **__for Theodore & Daphne this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Theo's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**MissGumiho**__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! **

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – Thank you for once more saving this chapter! Your beta-ing is, as always, a thing of love and we adore you for your hard work!

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX (#1): Theodore & Daphne**

Theo followed Daphne through the door of their private suite and closed and locked it behind him. Behind his ribcage, his heart was pounding in anticipation of the coming confrontation. With a thought, he conjured a sofa that looked like it had been transported directly from the Slytherin Common Room – black, smooth lamb-skin leather, heavy iron studs at the creases, dark green velvet throw pillows – and placed it in the center of the room. Perhaps seeing the familiar piece would comfort them both, help to ease the tension a little…

Gods, could tonight get any worse?

Maybe he shouldn't jinx it with such thoughts.

Without a word, he waited for his partner to take a seat, forcibly restraining his innate temper (as Drake had recommended to him earlier during their private talk in the men's), but to his bewilderment, Daphne made no move towards the sofa. Instead, she stood at a spot in-between it and him, waiting, those fathomless, sea-storm eyes assessing his mood.

For several long heartbeats, the two of them didn't move, didn't speak. They remained poised on the brink of individual action, and yet it was clear as the seconds passed that neither was willing to take that step towards the other. It wasn't a pause born of stubbornness so much as fear, he intuitively knew. The air was thick with unrevealed intention.

Theo wanted to kiss his witch so badly that he had to tighten his hand on the door knob to keep his feet in place. He'd agreed to give her this chance to explain, and she seemed the type to need space before launching herself into dangerous territory… But why wasn't she saying anything? Why was she just standing there, staring at him for her cue? How the fuck was he supposed to know what to do next? It's not like he'd ever been in this sort of situation before - wanting a woman more than air or food, wading through emotionally uncharted territory.

_Just open your mouth and talk to me_, he willed her silently, but clearly, Daphne was unsure how to begin. Her face was agonized, tears shimmered around her lashes, and her hands shook as she once more wiped at her cheeks. She looked so forlorn and fragile.

Whatever this secret was, it was eating her up, and yet she still wouldn't let him in on it to try and help. That angered him, and his ire grew proportionally with every second that ticked by and she remained silent.

This was it, then. She was too yellow to speak up. Fine, then _he_ would. "Let me lay it out for you, Daphne," he stated, his tone harder than he wanted it to be, but necessarily so. He had to make her understand the consequences of their time together, how his mind and heart worked. "I've decided to stay in the game to the bitter end. So long as you refuse to forfeit, I'm going to do to you whatever this card game allows me to, and to hell with the consequences. I want you, and I'm going to have you, one way or another."

Stepping away from the door, he stalked towards her, moving with the same forthright instinct that was guiding his words. "But I want this secret you're hiding from me, too. I want to know why you insist on me not caring for you. Do you want me to consider what we do tonight as just another one-off? Do you want me to treat you – your first time – as something unimportant, only a good time? Because I can do that. I can shut my feelings down and fuck you without care, if you insist. I've loads of practice, as you well know." His chest bled with the knowledge of what he was threatening her with, and he rubbed at it absently as if to wipe away the invisible stain left by such dark thoughts. "If that's all you expect from me – all you want from me - then tell me."

He reached out and stroked the hair back from her face, feeling terribly embittered that it had come down to this type of an ultimatum between them, and worse, he hated knowing he'd do exactly as he was promising - because he'd rather have even a tiny piece of the woman he was in love with than nothing at all, no matter the pain it caused him personally. He was his father's son in that way.

"If you won't give me your heart then I guess I'll just have to comfort myself instead with your body," he forewarned her. "And with Malfoy's cards in play – he showed me them yesterday - it won't be long before the game gives me permission." He crowded into her space, pressing his body against hers, breathing hot air against her cheek, feeling his pulse speed up as the scent of her perfume enticed him closer and closer. "No misunderstandings, Daphne: if you don't forfeit, I'm going to take your virginity tonight. I'm a rotten enough bastard to do it just so that you'd have to remember that it was _me _who was your first, because, let's face it, I'm not noble enough to walk away and leave you intact for the next lucky fucker to come along. I want a memory of you that I can hold onto."

Bending his lips to her left ear, he kissed the tiny lobe and spoke very softly, shifting his body deeper into her curves at the same moment, letting his hand drift down her shoulder, over her bared arm, to caress the inside of her wrist.

"I promise you, love, that for the rest of your life, you won't ever be able to forget me after tonight, even if it's only to curse my name."

Against him, Daphne trembled, and he knew he'd scared her. That knowledge almost brought him to his knees. He didn't want things to be like this between them! He liked the light-hearted banter they'd shared. He'd loved the lessons. He wanted that back! But she'd stripped him of all other options, and this was what was left.

"Please, just talk to me," he whispered again, pressing his forehead to her temple and entwining their fingers. "If you can't, I have my card we could put to use, too. It could help, so you wouldn't feel like you betrayed anyone's confidence, if that's the problem."

He lifted his card and read it aloud for her:

_**DEED: You get to ask your partner any five questions you want about them and they must answer wholly and truthfully.**_

He nuzzled her hair, tossing his card away. "Do you want me to ask you directly to tell me? Will it help to alleviate any responsibility or guilt?"

Daphne shook her head and took a deep breath, wrapping her free hand around his waist, resting against him fully. "I will tell you all you wish to know, Theo. But will you promise to listen with an open mind?"

Letting her hand go, he wrapped his arms about her and cradled her to his chest. "I promise."

She allowed herself another minute or two in his arms, and then released him, pulling his hand with her as she stepped towards the couch and sat upon it. Theo took a seat and waited, his heart slamming up his throat with nervousness. Daphne's face was so white as to almost be translucent and her lips pursed into a tight line of stress. What could be this bad?

"I want you to tell me what your action this round is first," he interrupted, noting she still held her card. Maybe something there would help ease them into this revelation?

Daphne adjusted her glasses on her nose again, and read her card for him:

_**DEED: You get to go down on your partner. Have fun!**_

Theo let out a hissing breath, trying to tamp down his unexpected arousal. "Fuck. Me."

Sucking his cock would definitely _not _ease anything between them; in fact, the tension in the room suddenly amped up by several degrees, bolstered by mutual sexual need. He could feel it in his own shoulders and by noting the set of hers. He stood up abruptly and began pacing in jumpy agitation. Shite, he couldn't force her to do this and then expect her to answer some really uncomfortable questions after. How fucking awkward would that be for the both of them?

"Allow me to perform my card first. I want to give you pleasure, my Theo," she murmured, wiping away the sweat that dotted the top of her lip with two trembling fingers. She glanced up at him with wide-eyed innocence then, through those _fucking sexy_ _glasses_, and her heated gaze ensnared him.

Theo instantly stopped all movement and he felt his prick harden to granite in his trousers.

Motherfucker, bloody buggering hell! He _wanted_ her to do it to him, and to seriously to hell with consequences. He wanted to watch those painted lips of hers wrap around his cock. He wanted to glide into that mouth he'd fantasized about for the last two months and fuck it good. He wanted to come down her throat and feel her swallow around him. He really, _really_ wanted that.

But it would be wrong for her to pleasure him out of some sick need to apologize, or to soothe his anger, or for whatever fucked up, misguided reason she might be telling herself just then. It would be debasing her.

Yes, he'd said he'd do to her whatever the cards allowed him to without care for the aftermath, but now he regretted those hasty words that had been spoken in anger; realized he didn't actually mean them. He didn't want to humiliate her.

Firmly, he shook his head. "No. I won't force you to-"

Daphne reached for his belt, began unbuckling it without further ado. He tried to step back, but she gripped the ends tight and pulled him off balance with persistent force, and he stumbled forward a step. Hands landing on her shoulders to steady his weight, he tried to move his hips away again, but her grasp was firm. He could push, but the belt might burn her fingers from the pressure of being wrenched away so quickly.

"Daphne, stop, don't do this," he warned, and changed direction in an instant, kneeling down before her to prevent her from going any further. "I don't want to hurt you."

Taking her glasses off, laying them on the couch at her side, she cupped his face and brought her own closer. "All or nothing, Theo, remember? I made the decision not to forfeit, because I want you. Because I love you. I have for years. I prayed to get you as my partner for this game tonight, and to my fortune, someone answered that wish." Tears splashed down her cheeks, beaded her lashes. "I will not waste this opportunity. I will pleasure and love you as I have always wanted, and then I will explain myself to you, and I will pray again for your understanding."

Theo's heart had stopped somewhere around the 'L' word. His whole body tightened with need and joy, and his blood pounded loudly in his ears. No one had ever confessed to having that feeling for him before. Not his parents, not his friends, not any past girlfriends - _no one_. He hadn't realized until just that second how desperately he'd needed to hear someone tell him such a simple, important thing. That it was Daphne who was the first to do so… "Say it again," he implored softly, caressing her left cheek with a tender touch. "Tell me you love me."

Daphne leaned forward, and he tilted his face to meet hers. Their lips hovered over each other's, the soft skin of their mouths rubbing sensually, their half-lidded eyes connecting, holding. "I love you, Theodore," his witch whispered, her alto voice husky with the truth. "I love you with all that I am."

Powerful emotion gripped his heart as they gently kissed. It was a sweet melding of feeling flowing between them, and it bound him irrevocably to this beautiful woman. He knew after this, nothing would be the same for him again. With a whimper, he surrendered to it, thrusting his hands into her hair and pulling them together. "I'm in love with you, too," he breathed against her, as his lips parted temporarily from hers.

"Please try to remember that," she let out a quivering breath in between respites, her hands traveling back to his belt and pulling it loose from its loops, dropping it to the floor with a heavy clunk as it cleared its confines.

"You don't have to do this to prove it to me," he argued, but she put a finger over his lips to hush him.

"I want to do this," she stated. "I want to taste you, and know that it was _my_ mouth and _my_ hands and _my_ love that brings you. Because I won't let you forget me either… my King."

Theo's heart tore itself free of its cage and threw itself down at her feet in that instant. He closed his eyes as he relinquished his will and gave himself over to her completely. Daphne's hands guided him onto his back, laying him down on the white, shag carpet, and she came over him, her thighs spread over his.

Swallowing his anxiety, he peeked through his lids at her and nodded as she ran her hand all up and down his very erect length under his trousers. Petting her long, silky curtain of golden hair, he watched as she unbuttoned and unzipped his chinos, and as he lifted his hips to passively help, she pulled them and his pants down at the same time, ridding him of his shoes and socks as well. The heap was shunted to the side, and his erection bobbed free, as solid as steel, glistening at the tip already with his desire. Next, she pulled his shirt up and over his arms and head, tossing it to the side without care. Fully naked, he watched as his beloved gripped him in that petite hand of hers with assurance and stroked up and down.

Bloody hell, he felt like a virgin all over again, close to shooting his load already - and she hadn't even put her mouth on him!

Daphne looked up at him, one hand stiffly around his todger, the other gripping his hip, and Theo found himself drowning once more in her true blue depths as she leaned forward and gently took him between her lips. The instant his crown parted the soft, pink slit of her mouth, he groaned loudly, the electric sensation causing his hips to jerk uncontrollably up, forcing an inch of his length deeper into her. Going lower with slow, deliberate action, she kept moving down his shaft, and the heat and satin warmth was almost more than he could bear. When his tip nudged the back of her throat, he thought for sure she'd stop, but to his amazement, she took all eight inches in, and he slid down the curved cavern until her lips met his hilt. There she stayed for a second or two, and on a swallow, she tightened around him before pulling back with suction that caused his spine to bow.

"Oh, fuck!" he swore, his legs shaking. Never had a girl taken him all the way; most stopped by reflex at half or three-fourths, but Daphne had taken him to the end. His mind started fuzzing out, and he fought off the need to jerk his hips upwards with force, fisting Daphne's hair unconsciously tighter. "Sweetheart, I'm too close… oh, the hell of it, I'm not going to last!"

His partner's hand and tongue on him stopped instantly as he fought the startling, rapid loss of his control, and he felt her squeeze that vein at the bottom of his shaft again, as he had last round. It helped to stave off the imminent eruption. "Chiroptera Bogus," he grated between clenched teeth, naming off all of the hexes that he'd memorized for his Charms N.E.W.T.s. in an attempt to distract his release. "Densaugeo, Furnunculus, Histedius, Locomotor Mortis…" It took a minute or two of repeating the long list, but Theo managed to regain control eventually; his body reset itself, his desire ebbed away and the urgency to come backed off. Another minute and he was good to go, not quite so hard as before, but still erect. "Sorry," he apologized sincerely, panting, looking down at her, petting her cheek gently. "I'm sorry."

His lovely partner smiled sweetly at him. "You need not apologize, beloved. Learning control is not an easy proficiency to master." Her hand slowly continued its attention on his penis, and with no urging on his part, she took him back into her mouth and sucked him good and strong. His knees simply fell apart then, and she had complete access to all of him as he rocked with small movements up into her.

He lifted his head to watch as her tongue stroked the length of his cock, lapping at the tip as if she were going at a lolly. This was sheer torture… and he utterly got off on it. "Fuck, I love you," he sighed as his head banged back softly into the floor and he stared up at the too-white ceiling until his eyes crossed and rolled back in his head. He started prattling then, his mouth running away without censor. "You know just what to do to me. That mouth of yours is perfect. _Oh,_ _fuck,_ _yeah!_ So good!" He gasped as she sucked extra hard and there was just that little touch of sharp pain to go with all that molten ecstasy. "When I come, I want you to swallow all of me. Every bit, Daphne - _every single drop._"

She nodded in acknowledgment even as she pulled up his length again, and the movement had him jacking his hips up once more.

Slytherin's rod, this was an amazing blow! His lover seemed to know all the right pressure points, when and where to use those little, white teeth of hers, and even dipped south to caress and roll his sack. When a fingertip grazed his perineum, he hissed and tightened up again, feeling the lava boil through his balls. "Daphne, sweetheart, I'm going to come," he warned.

Heart skipping two beats as she lowered herself all the way once more, constricting her throat muscles around his head, then pulling back to suck with firm pressure, he sighed and began carefully, rhythmically pumping his hips in time faster. He watched as he fucked her sweet mouth, his hands on either side of her head, holding loosely, guiding himself between those pretty lips. Mumbling incoherent sounds of approval, he let the fiery need build up, gasping and arching into her.

When Daphne hummed in desire, the vibration shot straight into his spine, up into his brain, and became his undoing. With a final thrust, he held her still, pushing as far into her as she'd allow – which was all the way. He came in spurting jets straight down her throat, the sensation a first for him. "Oh, God, _Daphne!_" he shouted, his hips and bum leaving the floor, feeling his body convulsing again and again into her. He filled her mouth with his hot seed and she swallowed every drop just as he'd bid, and for the first time in his whole, miserable life, Theo felt complete, like he had found the one thing he'd been missing to perfect himself.

Slumping in the aftermath of his surge, he lay back into the carpet, boneless. As his breath slowly returned, along with his brain, he opened his eyes to watch Daphne withdraw from around him finally. His tired penis sagged with satisfied relief against his inner thigh. Her timid smile up at him was beautiful.

"I love you," was all he could think to tell her, holding his arms out to her. His woman crawled up his body and lay atop him, laying her cheek over his heart. He curled himself around her as he flipped them onto their sides. They lay like that in silence for a long while, neither one wanting to destroy the moment with talk that was sure to ruin the mood.

Feeling the minutes tick by and the urgency to get this discussion underway roiling about in his guts, Theo sighed in defeat. "I'm going to ask my first question now, and I think you know what it's going to be." His beloved snuggled more deeply into him, her arm about his waist holding tighter, even as she nodded. Seeing no way to avoid the inevitable, taking a deep breath, he plunged into the abyss feet-first. "Why can't I pursue you after the game ends?"

With a shuddering breath, Daphne finally revealed the truth to him. "I am apprenticed to a Sex-Witch and Warlock couple in Italy beginning two days after graduation. The work bond is designed to last for ten months, to complete a one year contract I signed with them last summer. The contract is legal and binding, signed by my hand and bound by my blood and on my oath as a witch."

Theo's heart did a double-take and he heedlessly said the first thing that came to mind. "You're moving to Italy to become a _prostitute?_" he asked, upset by the idea.

Daphne shook her head firmly. "Being a Sex-Witch or Warlock does not automatically assume a definitive connection to the life of a prostitute, Theo. That is a terrible stereotype, assumed from a position of misunderstanding. They are beings born with the magical and pheromonal abilities to sexually stimulate others – a gift of their family's Veela heritage - but they do not necessarily use their innate talents in a professional capacity. Only some of them choose such a path," she explained. "To lump them all into such a category would be to comparatively state that all Slytherins will eventually become servants of the darker arts."

He pulled his head up to get her attention and looked at her incredulously. "Most of us do," he pointed out rather bluntly.

She huffed. "But not allof us, Theo. I have absolutely no plans of ever doing so."

He turned his head away bitterly and sniffed derisively. "No, you're going to Italy to serve as someone's love slave."

She pushed away from him angrily and sat up on one hip. "You see? This is why I feared telling you! I knew you would react in such a scornful fashion without all of the facts at your command."

Covering his eyes with a hand, Theo bit back his temper, which was simmering under the surface again and threatening to bubble forth. He'd just been told the woman he loved was apprenticed to the sex trade; how the hell was he supposed to handle such a thing? "I'm trying here, Daphne, but… Merlin's rod, do I even _want_ to know what you're going to be doing for the next ten months?"

He could feel her fume and debate silently in the fidgeting of her body against his. "Is that one of your questions?"

He barked a mad, frustrated laugh, feeling a nasty headache coming on. "Does it fucking matter? Okay, then yeah, it's my second question: what the bloody hell are you expected to do for this Sex-Witch and Warlock in Italy?"

"I will answer, so long as you promise that your next question will be to ask me _why_ I would put myself into such a position to begin with," she countered, sounding incredibly defeated again.

"Fine. Now answer," he growled, moving his hand away to rest upon his belly, which was rioting sickly. It felt like eels were sliding around down there, partying out, threatening to bring up his dinner from hours before.

Taking a deep breath, she dropped the metaphorical boulder right atop his head - hard.

"To complete my training from last summer, which was interrupted by my return to Hogwarts, and then to… demonstrate my understanding of the concepts learned." She closed her eyes, her breathing coming harder now. "Yes, Theo, I will be forced to engage in sexual intercourse, among other things, with my Mistress and Master, as well as with… paid clientele."

He felt like crying. He laughed again instead, and it was a vicious, biting sound in the hushed room. "Trading sex for money is the very definition of a prostitute, Daphne." He looked at her impassive features and felt the rage he'd held in check erupting to the surface at once. "You're telling me you're going to become no better than a hedge whore. That you're going to fuck perfect strangers for a few galleons." He sat up abruptly with an easy pull of his stomach muscles, grabbed her arms and shook her once, his voice rising in volume with every mad word, his heart pounding out of control under his ribs. "That you're going to let them do depraved things to you – _in you_. You're going to kiss them, swallow their cocks, let them beat you and tie you up, let them come all over you and inside every hole in your body - and you want me to just calmly accept that? Are you _fucking serious!_"

She erupted into tears with a loud wail and threw herself into his arms. "I don't want to!" she cried out, losing that firm control she constantly maintained, her speech pattern changing from formal to informal in a beat. "I don't want to give myself to anyone but you, but I can't do anything about it now. It's done. I'm bound by an unbreakable contract." Her sobs rent the air with her pain, her arms gripped him tightly, as if she would never let him go. "I'm sorry. So, so sorry."

Theo's fury dissolved into a numbed kind of despair instantly. "Why did you make that kind of deal?"

Her weeping grew proportionally. "I wanted to know how to please you. I wanted to learn how to make you love me, and not just look at me as another woman to add to your count."

His chest caved, his heart sank. Her words echoed around in his head, nonstop. "For me? You did this for me? Why? I'm not… worth it."

Daphne's lips found his, kissing him with trembling sincerity. "To me, you are. To win your love, I would have given anything."

Focusing on her face, the reality sunk in: what he wanted most in the world, now that he had finally found it, would be beyond his gasp as of next weekend. She was going to leave him brokenhearted and alone as soon as she walked off the stage with her diploma in hand at graduation, because things would _never_ be the same between them after her contract's ending if they tried to stay together through it. No matter how much he loved her, he knewhe couldn't touch her again after she'd traded away her body to complete strangers in such shameless ways. He hated being so hypocritical, but he was in tune with himself enough to know that his jealousy would tear them to pieces in the aftermath. She'd understood that; it was why she'd been so torn up about revealing this fucked up situation to him. And now he got the message loud and clear, as well.

Basically, all he had was this time with her tonight. More than that, and he wouldn't be able to stop himself from killing those who held her contract to get her out of it. Hell, he was sorely tempted to leave now to do just that, but where would that leave them? Him on the run forever, or at the mercy of a Dementor's kiss if caught; her, an outcast for being complicit in murder. It was a no-win scenario.

Tonight was all they could own... so he wouldn't waste anymore time thinking about regrets and feeling helpless.

Holding Daphne to him, Theo laid her back in the carpet, uncaring about the location so much as going with the feeling. He wiped her tears away, kissed her softly, and began removing her clothing. As each piece gave way, he laved each location with his tongue and mouth, giving it tender, reverent attention. He suckled her nipples until they were straining points, he left a love bruise on her throat to mark her as his, he trailed down her belly to the little dip and tongued it, and he licked her sweet pussy until she cried out and came for him.

As he removed her shoes, he kissed her ankles, smoothing his hands up her calves, behind her knees, touching every crevice, memorizing each smooth curve of her beautiful body. "I love you," he whispered over and over as he brought her legs around his waist and gripped his hard length in hand, guiding it to her entrance. "Do this with me."

Instinctually, she tilted her hips to the correct position and reached for his hand at the same moment, and together they fit him into her tight, wet opening. He slid inside slowly, supporting his weight on his palms, his eyes locked on hers, watching the pupils dilate, entranced by the parting of her lips in surprise as he stretched her out. Her cheeks were flushed, her breath struggling for that solid control she always clung to. Upon his shoulders, her small fingers gripped him tightly. God, she felt _so good_. Her soft, moist muscles gripped him hard, but she was all liquid silk. Her thighs trembled against his hips, reminding him again of how vulnerable she could be.

When he was buried to the hilt in her, they stopped and simply let the moment be, For once in his life, Theo didn't feel the need to make this act about him – it was about _them_.

"I love you, my Theo," his witch murmured, tenderly touching his cheek. "I am so happy it was you."

There had been no breaching, no blood, no pain, but her virginity had been surrendered to him just as true. Now and forever, he would own this small, but very important part of her heart and memory. No one could take this from them. "Thank you," he spoke softly, humbly against her mouth as he leaned down to capture her for another kiss, sinking to his elbows and letting his fingers smooth through her golden hair, tangling up in it and cradling her head gently.

When her arms came around his neck, and the kiss blossomed into heat, he knew it was the right time to move. Sliding out of her with equal measure as he had entered, he thrust with gentle pressure at first, opening her up, getting her used to the feel of him, to the rhythm he set. Utilizing all of her lessons, attempting to calm his breathing so that he could last longer, he started out with strong, long strokes that exited her almost completely before thrusting back inside. At the same time, his lips found and latched onto her left nipple, and as she'd instructed back in the first action round, he cherished her breast, letting her know with every lick and nibble how beautiful it was. His attention turned to the right side at some point to give it equal attention.

Throughout it all, Daphne moaned and gasped in a low voice, encouraging him with soft stroking through his hair and running her fingernails over his scalp. It was so erotic a sound and so enticing a feeling that very quickly, his climax built up. He slowed down purposefully, remembering his breathing, trying not to be overwhelmingly seduced by the velvety flesh that parted for his cock with each surge forward. He'd fucked loads of times, but this was about making love, and he forcibly reminded himself over and over to think of her first. Thank Slytherin she'd sucked him off earlier, as now he had a bit more control and could last longer.

"Oh, _oh_… Theo," she whimpered in a tone that had his hips jerking in response and his guts clenching with need. "Oh, it's so wonderful," she sighed, tightening her thighs, which created greater friction and more sensation.

As her heels dug into him, silently pleading him to go faster and harder, he complied, helpless but to give her everything she wanted and needed. He had to pull his mouth from her breast, however, as their movements quickly became too wild.

"Touch your clit," he murmured the command in her ear, feeling his own impending doom and worried that he wouldn't be able to hold out under their current pace. He wanted to bring her first, to feel her come around him before he lost himself, but she was so tight and it was… gods, it was fucking _amazing _shuttling in and out of her body in desperation. As his blood pounded through his veins, he grew dizzy from the need to release all that pressure. "Hurry, love."

With an easy push-up, never breaking their pace, he made room for her fingers to inch between their slick, heaving bodies. Dropping her feet to the floor, spreading her knees wide, she began rubbing her little pearl in circular swipes, and her hips surged in time to meet his with incited fervency. It became both making love and fucking at the same time then, as her pelvis rose from the floor, supported by the strength of her lower abdomen, arse and legs, giving him the perfect angle to thrust into her. He swore under his breath as the change into a 'missionary arch' position stimulated his cock in ways he'd only ever dreamed before.

Within a very short time, Daphne crested the wave of pleasure and spilled over, wailing as her hips thrust upwards one last time to meet him coming into her, tumbling her over into ecstasy with his name on her lips. Her release was as magnificent as everything else about her: the curtain of her golden hair pooled around her, her tight nipples were thrust to the ceiling, her lips were parted on a gasp, and her eyes tightly shut. Her normally pale skin was pink, with a light sheen of sweat covering every inch.

Theo leaned forward, dropped her hips onto the tops of his thighs, and buried his nose into her throat to fully feel her rippling inner muscles convulse powerfully around his length. Dragged deeper into her, her flesh clamping down on his with tremendous pressure, her husky alto voice moaning in his ear, her panting breath bathing his neck hotly, and the scent of her exotic jasmine perfume in his nose all worked in tangent to conquer him utterly. "Oh, God… I love you!" he cried against her neck as his body finally ejaculated. His life-giving seed pulsed into her in seemingly endless spurts as he emptied inside of her all he had, his pleasure absolute in that second, knowing he was filling her up with his essence.

Drained of all thought and energy, and with a tired groan, Theo collapsed onto her breast when he was finally spent, unable to find the strength to even pull out or safely move them to their sides. His lungs ached, his head spun, and his heart beat a fierce Marengo in his chest. All he could do was expire in her arms.

They held to each other tightly, neither one seemingly want to move first. Even when the chimes rang out to tell them their time was up, Theo refused to move.

"I lied to you," he notified her in a raspy, exhausted voice, stroking her cheek with his fingers absently. "I have absolutely no intention of giving you up at the end of this game, Daphne." Wearily leaning up on his elbows again, he looked down at her and knew a resolve he'd never felt before solidify in his mind. "You're _mine_."

Those fascinating, blue windows to her soul ran with tears again. "Miss… Miss Granger thinks she might be able to find a clause in the contract that could be… exploited, perhaps." The words were hopeful, but her tone didn't sound very convinced, he noted. "She has offered to meet with me on Monday to peruse it for this purpose."

His heart shook. Hermione Granger would help them, even after what he'd done to her? But why?

Ah, fuck it, he wasn't looking this gift horse in the mouth either; he'd accept any assistance he could get at this point, and for any reason. He'd just have to pay the witch back someday. "I'll be there, too," he vowed, kissing his lover with conviction, reaching out to entwine their fingers together, resting them next to her head on the carpet. "We have one week. We'll find a way, sweetheart. I swear to you, we will."

And so help him, he meant it – somehow, they would find a way to break that _goddamned_ contract, even if he had to play to the Slytherin stereotype and became a practitioner of the dark arts to do it. He did, after all, have the penchant for such leanings, thanks to his father.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter, folks?**

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**Chiroptera Bogus = The Bat-Bogey hex's name is never given said aloud when cast in JKR's novels or movies. It is merely called the 'Bat-Bogey hex,' so I invented this name for it when someone casts it upon another person. Bats are flying mammals in the scientific Order 'Chiroptera' and 'Bogus' is simply a Latin-sounding word for 'Bogey.' **

**Hedge Whore = An old Regency Era/Victorian Era term that is still in use today by people of an older generation. It basically means a woman who trades sex for money on the sides of the roads, under the hedges (because she can't afford a hotel room, and would probably be kicked out of one anyway, given how filthy she is). It's the lowest kind of prostitute you can think of.**

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**Musical Selection this Chapter: "Save Tonight" by Eagle Eye Cherry. Lyrics are as follows...**

_**Go on and close the curtains**_**  
**_**All we need is candlelight**_**  
**_**You and me and a bottle of wine**_**  
**_**Going to hold you tonight**_

_**We know I'm going away**_**  
**_**How I wish...wish it weren't so**_**  
**_**Take this wine & drink with me**_**  
**_**Let's delay our misery**_

_**Save tonight**_**  
**_**And fight the break of dawn**_**  
**_**Come tomorrow**_**  
**_**Tomorrow I'll be gone**_

_**There's a log on the fire**_**  
**_**And it burns like me for you**_**  
**_**Tomorrow comes with one desire**_**  
**_**To take me away...it's true**_**  
**_**It ain't easy to say goodbye**_**  
**_**Darling please don't start cry**_**  
**_**'Cause girl you know I've got to go**_**  
**_**Lord I wish it wasn't so**_

_**Save tonight**_**  
**_**And fight the break of dawn**_**  
**_**Come tomorrow**_**  
**_**Tomorrow I'll be gone**_

_**Tomorrow comes to take me away**_**  
**_**I wish that I...that I could stay**_**  
**_**Girl you know I've got to go**_**  
**_**Lord I wish it wasn't so**_

_**Save tonight**_**  
**_**And fight the break of dawn**_**  
**_**Come tomorrow**_**  
**_**Tomorrow I'll be gone... **_


	32. Chapter 6B: Seamus & Lavender

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**Slip Resistent **__recommended the song, __**"**_**Just The Way You Are**_**" by Bruno Mars **__for Seamus & Lavender this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Seamus' thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**Slip Resistent **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! **

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – Can we say 'thank you' enough for all your loving beta work on this story? I'm not sure it's possible, but we're going to try. THANK YOU!

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter, folks?**

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**CHAPTER SIX (#2): Seamus & Lavender**

Once the door had shut behind them to their private room, Seamus leaned against it, absently twirling his Ash wood wand between his fingers like a baton, feeling the comforting weight and it's innate magic buzz through his system. It always calmed him as nothing else could, grounding him to his family's innate connection with nature, to the earth itself.

The wand had chosen him - it had practically leapt out of Mr. Ollivander's hands into his, in fact - and he felt decidedly more at ease with it around. Having the wand so far out of his sight for too many rounds had made him edgy in a way he didn't understand. It was almost as if - queer as it sounded - the wand itself was trying to warn him not to leave it behind. He didn't understand the compulsion to hold it, which had grown increasingly with each successive round, or the creeping feeling of dread that lingered behind his eyeballs and was beginning to weigh on his mind with each passing hour, but he knew that from this point on in the game, he wasn't having it out of his sight.

"You alright?" his beautiful partner asked, sincere concern in the set of her shoulders and in her eyes. "You seem on-edge."

He gave her a reassuring smile. "Fine, love. Just thinkin'." He nudged his chin towards her hand. "What's yer card say then?"

As she read it to him, Seamus held his breath with anticipation…

_**DEED: You partner must kneel before you and perform any three tasks you want, responding with 'Yes, Your Highness,' to your commands.**_

_Whoa, sexy!_ He'd never been anyone's sub before tonight, but he intended on playing the role for Lavender to the hilt. He wanted to make her happy, and honest to Jim, he was learning that there was nothing more of a turn-on than a woman who told you what she wanted - especially his woman.

His beautiful partner's leering smirk as she finished reading her card to him spoke volumes; she was definitely going to make him work extra hard _this_ round to amend last round's failure to please her. Not that he minded having to put in the effort. No sir, not one bit!

Chuckling with amusement, Seamus placed his wand on a conjured side table nearby, and rubbed his hands together, getting down on his knees before her. "Have at me, Yer Highness. I'm yers ta command."

Playfully, she put one purple leather-pearl strapped heel against his shoulder and smiled at him, her indigo eyes twinkling with mirth. "Well, well… right where any girl would love to have you, Mister Finnegan. And what does _your_ card say?"

He reached into his pocket, and pulled out the laminated rectangle and read it off to her:

_**DEED: You partner must list out loud at least 10 good things about you.**_

"Hmmm, interesting," she waggled her eyebrows. "I think I want to combine the cards, if you don't mind."

Starting at her ankle, letting a hand slide slowly up her leg, he pushed her dress over her knees, up her thigh, baring her lingerie to him once more. He _really _wanted to see what was hidden under those pretty dark purple, floral lacies. He'd seen bits of it a few rounds ago, touched the curls, and felt how damp her knickers had gotten as he'd rubbed his palm over her until she came, but he wanted to see her without a stitch of her clothing on. Their first time together years ago, he hadn't really seen anything, as the dorm room had been rather dimly lit.

"I'd love that. So, what will ya have o' me, Angel?"

Lavender considered her options with a faraway look in her gaze. When inspiration struck, she snapped her fingers and gave him a smile. Removing her leg from his touch, she stepped back. "You're going to serve me properly, my sexy Irish slave-boy."

Seamus bowed his neck in humble acquiescence. "Yes, Yer Highness."

With a thought, she banished the arch with the velvet straps, and the table of naughty spanking goods, and changed the proportions and coverings of the bed he'd conjured at the last minute last round, so that it was now a very large, round mattress, decked in gold and champagne-colored satin sheets. Lavender flowed down on it and scooted into the middle, leaning up on her elbows to watch him.

"Strip for me."

Regaining his feet, Seamus started unbuttoning his shirt. "Yes, Yer Highness." Performing as bade, he bared himself to her once more without shame, noting with some amusement how her eyes came to rest on his stirring cock as soon as it was revealed.

The size of his dick came from his Mam's side of the family - that blood lineage he tried very hard to pretend didn't influence him, even though he knew it very much did. Most days, he felt his enormous cock something of a curse, as it was uncomfortable when it hardened behind the constraints of his clothing, it was serious work to wank it off, and often he caused a twinge of pain in the women he bedded. However, by the way Lavender was looking at it now, licking her lips like she couldn't wait for a taste, he felt a bit of vanity puff him up. It did something good for him to know he could cause her to crave him as much as he was craving her.

A chair was conjured into existence behind him, and with a tilt of her chin, she indicated he was to sit in it. He did so, facing his mistress, awaiting her commands.

"One question per round, I believe was the agreement, so: what position is your favorite for sex?" she asked, crossing her ankles and staring him down.

There was no hesitation in his answer; he knew from experience what he liked. "Me female on her back on the mattress, me standing up, her legs restin' in me arms. It's deep pene tha' way – ta the hilt, if she can take me - and I can see her face and breasts and cunnie all at once, and change th' speed as we both want anytime."

Lavender hummed in approval, her smile as wicked as Circe's own. "Sounds delicious… but it still leaves you in charge, doesn't it?"

Tilting his head in consideration, he realized that he hadn't thought of it quite like that before. "I s'pose, though _she_ could be controlling how I move with a simple word, if she wanted. She could command me as she willed."

A throaty, sexy laugh accompanied that statement. "Do you like to play slave to a mistress, Sea? Do you like being told what to do and when by a woman?"

Seamus shrugged. "Ne'r done it a'fore 'til now, but I'm quick ta learn new thangs, I'm told. I'd be willin' ta try anythang wit' ya, lass."

Shale ta bones, this discussion was quite provocative, and his accent, he noticed, wasn't the only thing thickening as his desire grew…

Pushing up on the palms of her hands, she reached behind her neck, untied the halter strings and began wiggling her dress over her head. Tossing it to the side, she then reached behind her back, and unclasped her bra, throwing it in the same pile. Seamus' eyes were unwittingly drawn to that triangular strip of fabric covering her crotch, and he wondered if she dared…

Lavender, he'd forgotten, was a Gryffindor _and_ a sexual dominant. She _absolutely_ dared.

Hooking her thumbs into the sides of those pretty, dark purple, floral panties, she slowly slipped them down her thighs, pulling them off one foot at a time. They ended up alongside their matching lingerie. All that remained were her heels and jewelry…

"Curious, Sea?" she asked, keeping her legs tightly closed and scrunched up, teasing him with only the barest peek of her lower lips.

Mouth suddenly dry, heart rate accelerating, he nodded. "I wanna see yer sweet quim, love. I'm _dyin'_ ta see it."

Lavender stared back with blatant lust at his cock, which had hardened against his thigh to almost painful proportions. Unashamedly, she pried her legs apart, opening up her core to his hot stare.

Searing heat slammed through his system, straight into his dick as he took in the tempting sight she presented. Gods and goddesses o' th' woods, she had a gorgeous cunnie! The barest sprinkling of tightly trimmed dark gold curls circled the top, but the rest was bare. Her clit was a dark pink button, hidden between her dewy flesh. She parted the folds for him with her fingers, showing everything off.

Seamus thought he should say something about how luscious she looked, but right then, his mind had decided to take a holiday. Never had that happened to him before. He was so enamored with her beautiful pussy that words simply flew out of his head.

"I'm going to touch myself and you're to watch," she informed him, drawing only his partial attention; his eyes remained on her glistening cunt, even as his mind acknowledged her words. "Don't move from that spot, Sea. Just watch."

Mindlessly, he nodded, knocked for a six. It was difficult to fight off the urge to throw his body onto the bed and disregard her command, but he restrained his compulsion with great discipline. "Yes, Yer Highness," he muttered.

She lay back into a slanted array of pillows that propped her up, and her fingers touched down upon her little bud. It looked so soft, and a little wet… She gently traced it with her nail, twiddling the specific spot that sent her body tightening with desire. Every woman was different there in size and shape, he knew, and stimulating it was equally as varied; some liked it pinched or rubbed only under the little flap of skin or even slapped, while others liked only the barest stroke, or enjoyed the top or sides caressed instead. Lavender's spot was to the right a bit, underneath the tiny pink pearl, and she ruthlessly exploited it with the pressure she wanted – not so rough, but not so soft either… somewhere in between - to bring her body into a state of heightened, quivering need in no time.

Fascinated with the changes, he was mesmerized by the skin of her labia darkening to a deep rose color as blood rushed to the spot, by the sight of her little clit hardening, and by the shiny juices that gathered at her hole at her sexual awakening. Rimming the opening, Lavender gathered up some of her essence and ran it up and down her slit, slathering her vaginal lips with her own fluids. She moaned and it was deep and throaty. The sound made his penis jolt and his thighs shake.

Glancing at her face, he noticed her whole attention fixated on him, and it was then that he comprehended that she was aroused by the act of exhibitionism. Many women didn't like to be watched in any fashion; they preferred sex with the lights off, embarrassed by their own reactions, or that of their partner, and some never, ever masturbated in front of their lover. But not Lavender – she seemed to get off on his response to her excitement. Clearly, it encouraged her to see how she could unravel her partner without ever touching him.

"Come here and kneel on the bed between my legs," she directed.

Moving to obey with pounding heart and eager lips, he growled in pleasure at her edict. "Yes, Yer Highness." Situated mere inches from joining them together, Seamus found that he was never more tempted in his whole life…

"Touch yourself," she dictated in a breathy tone, panting. Her violet-blue gaze was intense with longing, her cheeks flooded with color. The slightest sheen of perspiration dotted her upper lip. "I want to watch you stroke that magnificent thing for me."

Letting out a shaky breath, he grabbed a hold of his aching todger. _Finally_, he thought with a sigh of satisfaction, swiping his wetness across the large, pink head and using it and some of his own saliva to help glide his hand over his long length. Mutual masturbation was something he'd only done once with Maddy Fletcher…

No, he refused to think about that minging slapper right now, focusing instead on the witch who was tightening the noose around his heart and lassoing it in to her grasp bit by bit.

Lavender's cheeks were rosy, her lips parted slightly, and her fingers… ah, those naughty fingers of hers were rubbing in circles over her clit, while the other hand penetrated her opening with two fingers. The sight of her arousal, accompanied by a chorus of enticing moans and the perfume of her drenched sex, pervaded his senses on every level, kicking his need up several notches. Licking his lips, imagining himself sucking on those perfect lower lips of hers, lapping at that juicy opening, his hand sped up its pace over his length.

"I want you to come on me right here," she pulled her hands out and away, indicating her open, welcoming pussy.

Seamus groaned and swallowed hard, his hand jerking his cock harder, faster. "Ya performed th' charm, yeah?"

Lavender nodded. "I cast C&DC every round. We're protected." Reaching up, she shoved the two fingers that had been inside of her into his mouth. "Suck them."

He licked her sweet honey off her digits, never stopping his hand's rhythm. _Na Síogaí, _she tasted so fucking good! His heart slammed under his ribs as he approached the edge of climax. Hips swaying now in time to each pump as the lava boiled up through his body, ready for release, he groaned. "Angel, I'm gonna come."

Widening her knees, Lavender leaned back to watch, as he angled his cock into position at her slit, brushing the head over her soaked, scarlet-colored flesh. He wouldn't go inside… he _wouldn't_. It would be her decision when that happened between them. But he would give her this; he would come all over her and up inside her as far as he could…

That thought brought him, and with a hoarse yell, he released. Pumping continually with a tight grip, his hot seed exploded out of him and onto her. Spurt after gratifying spurt of his seed coated her entire slit, and seeped down into her entrance. "_Oh, fuck_… Lavender!" he barked, his head thrown back and eyes closed as he continued to shudder, spilling onto her until the last drop was wrung from him.

When he was emptied and exhausted, his head lolled forward, his hand stilled, and he sat back on his haunches. It took long minutes for his heart to calm and his breathing to return to normal. As it did, he opened his eyes to gaze down upon his lovely woman.

Lavender was rubbing his semen into her, bringing some of it up and licking it from her fingers. She gave him an impish smile as her tongue peeked out. "You taste _really_ good," she murmured, and drew him down for a kiss. He sampled his flavor on her tongue, and it turned him on all over again knowing he was in her mouth as well as her pussy now.

"Like that?" she teased as she pulled back a bit.

"Verra much, Angel."

Running her fingertips through his hair, she practically purred with need, and he abruptly realized that she hadn't come. "Want me ta reciprocate?" he offered.

Lavender's eyes grew wide. "You already performed my three tasks. It's my turn to perform your card."

He swiped a finger through her warm quim and brought it to his mouth, licking it clean. "Ya can do it while I eat ya, me mistress." With that, he scooted back a bit and lay on his belly. Guided by a wealth of experience, he leaned in and captured that tiny bundle of nerves at the top of her wet slit, suckling on it with intense concentration. A velvety rasp of his tongue up the length of her next made his witch cry out loud and lusty, and arch into him. One of her hands gripped his shoulder as an anchor, while the other ran through his hair, pulling on it with gentle tugs.

Merlin's rod, the combination of their fluids was heavenly! Her scent captivated him. Her sweet, honeyed flavor addicted his senses… He lost his mind then, cut loose all reserve, and feasted at her pussy with aggressive lust.

"Sea!" she gasped, sinuously writhing around as he gripped her hips tight and buried his tongue deeper inside her cunnie. "Oh, Sea, yes!"

Electric pulses of demanding need shot straight into his bollocks at the sound of her low, husky entreaties begging him not to stop. The perfume of her fiery arousal drove him mad, and his hips rolled instinctively in response against the bed, humping in slow motion, as he became aroused for her once more.

Shite, this was so good! He might even come again in a few minutes if this kept up.

The abilities he'd inherited from his Mam's side of the family usually allowed for him to have incredible control and stamina in bed, but never had he reacted so passionately to a woman as he had Lavender. His discipline was shot all to hell where she was concerned. Excepting the one time he'd been involved in that orgy (and then, his insatiable need had been fueled by the drugs he'd consumed, and had not been a natural reaction), normally it would take him quite a while to climax. But, as had been the case their first time and now during this game, it seemed his body was impatient to find its pleasure with his Sweet Angel - and not just once, but multiple times.

Soon, he would have to rein this pulsing need in, so that when he made love to her sometime tonight or tomorrow, they could take it nice and slow. He wanted to work his thick cock into this sweet, tight pussy an inch at a time to make up for their messed-up first attempt at sex two years ago. When it was time, he'd slide as deep as he could inside her, too, joining them as close to perfection as possible. No woman had been able to take all of him in before, but he intended on trying with Lavender. If he was gentle, perhaps they could manage it.

For now, though, he'd let go and enjoy tongue-fucking her like a wild man. In this he could safely unleash his passions.

He plunged fast, as far up inside her channel as he could, spearing her and tickling the roof on the slide out by wriggling the tip of his tongue just so. "Oh, _OH!_" Lavender cried, gripping his hair between her fingers and tensing her quivering thighs against his head. Repeating the act, Seamus stimulated all the nerves inside her sensitive tunnel, while outside, his thumb settled on that spot on her clit that she'd shown him was special, and rotated quick, flicking circles upon it.

It took maybe another minute or so before the pressure was too great for her, and with a wail of his name, his sexy witch finally came. Her thighs and bottom tensed, and her abdomen rippled as hot fluid rushed out of her, saturating his tongue. He laved her slit, drinking up every bit of her sweet, honey essence as he could, sliding up her seam to grab hold of her clit once more. She was going to come for him at least once more this way, he determined. He wanted to make up for having neglected to do this to her the first time around, when they'd both been younger and less experienced.

"Sea, I'm too sensitive," his witch keened, but he knew just the right trick for such a thing. Easing up on sucking, he instead licked very lightly just underneath the fold of skin, keeping her moistened and stimulated, keeping those nerves tingling so they could drive her need up once more, even as one fingertip caressed her entrance, tracing around it in circles, tickling just so.

Their eyes met down the length of her body; her cheeks were cherry red, her lips swollen from where she'd been biting on them, her lovely breasts heaving with every breath she took. "Oh, that's-" She shuddered, and her eyelids squeezed shut for a moment from the sensations he was dragging to the surface with his persistent attentions. "Oh, oh, _oh_…Go inside!"

Allowing his roaming finger its delightful discoveries, he pierced her tight sheath slowly; it was like touching liquid silk. Moist, warm muscles clenched around his digit in reaction to his invasion. Gliding in and out with the single finger, he continued his mouth's journey, too. When she demanded he go deeper and harder, he pushed two fingers up into her and knew he could continue sucking on her clit now, as she was quickly climbing towards the peak of ecstasy, where every wild sensation was desired.

He fucked her good with his hand, first speeding up the pace, then slowing it, driving her mad with want for culmination. His lips latched onto her little pearl and suckled, nibbled, lapped. His free hand moved up her body to pinch, rub, and flick a nipple. Lavender fell apart under his expert skill in no time, screaming as her second climax thundered through her body. She clamped down on him, pulled his hair and rocked him deep into her and on her, bathing his chin and cheeks with her delicious juices.

Her heavy, exhausted panting was barely audible over the sound of his own blood pounding in his ears. It took everything he had to slide his hand out of her wet channel, to take his mouth off of her soaking folds, and not to simply lean over her and fuck her like an animal just as she lay. Conjuring a damp towel instead, he cleaned his hand and mouth, then gently wiped between her legs.

"You're a master at pleasuring a woman," she sighed, a contented smile upon her reddened lips; she'd bitten them a tad too hard. "I've never come so hard in my whole life."

Her words sang in his heart. He'd finally done to her what he'd always wanted – he'd made her orgasm _but_ _good_… and better than Zabini!

With a thought, he magicked the angled pillows under her away, and Lavender simply flowed, boneless, along with the change, until she was once again pressed into the soft mattress, flat on her back. Seamus crawled next to her to spoon. "Tell me more, love," he cheeked, kissing the top of her head. "Ye've still ta do me card, ya know."

Lying with her, holding her small frame to his much bulkier form, he listened, cuddling her in her afterglow, and fought off his own renewed arousal.

His partner huffed with tired amusement, her fingernails absently trailing over the hand he rested on her abdomen. "Well, you're definitely persistent," she joshed with a drowsy giggle. "And inventive in the ways you go about it. I still have all those little cards you sent me in fourth and fifth years. Put them in my scrapbook."

Draping a leg over hers, he pulled her in tight and pressed his nose into her neck. "Really? How many did I send ya?"

"Twenty-three," she replied, her voice so soft as she drifted to sleep without another word.

Seamus knew they weren't going to finish his card then, but he didn't mind. Let her sleep; they'd had a rough few weeks with NE.W.T.s, and it had proved to be an emotionally-charged night so far. Besides, she'd orgasmed rather powerfully, and it was already past two in the morning. His Sweet Lass was clearly drained, and a cat nap would do her some good. He'd just lie here with her and pretend to be _her _angel now, keeping watch over her rest.

In those quiet moments, listening to her even breathing, feeling her strong heart under his hand as he pressed it between her breasts, and learning the feel of her naked body against his, Seamus felt a sense of rightness and possessiveness overtake him.

And right behind it - like clockwork, to destroy his peace - followed the guilt.

Sighing, he realized he'd have to tell her the truth at some point tonight. He didn't want to withhold anything from her ever again, and true, there wasn't _any_ hiding secrets as big as the two he carried around inside; it was inevitable that one of his sisters, or his parents, or maybe even his Gram would make the blunder in conversation about his ties to the woods around his home, and then to his 'responsibilities' after he'd introduced her to his family. All holy hell would break loose then. Better to assure that disaster never happened.

First though, he needed to apologize for their lost time, for the screw-ups he'd made along the way with her. He needed to take this chance to win her affection back. They needed that more solid groundwork if they were going to weather the storm of his life's truths.

But would she want to stay with him once she found out? It was no minor thing what he'd tell her, and Lavender was so spirited, so young that she might decide that what he would ask of her was more than she could or wanted to handle, and simply walk away, washing her hands of him. "No, I can't... I'm no gonna let ya go this time, Angel," he murmured against her ear, pressing a kiss to the soft, tender lobe. "We'll make it work. Somehow, I'll make ya understand and it'll work out."

The chimes rang out some time later. They both stirred, but Seamus held his witch tight to him for a moment more, enjoying the feel of her warmth.

"I've finally come ta realize tonight… I love ya true, Lavender – wit' me heart, and deep. I think I have fer years. It's why I could never let what happened a'tween us go. I wanted more then, and tha' feeling's never gone away. I know ya can't say it back yet, but I wanted ya ta hear me feelings aloud a'fore anythin' else happens a'tween us tonight."

Stiffening for a moment, his partner remained silent after his declaration. Then, to his surprise, she melted back into him a moment later.

"You didn't ask me a question this round, Sea," she reminded him. "Ask me now. Anything you want."

He sighed, and ran a soft caress across the bottom of her jaw. "Can ya forgive me? For all I done, and all I'll likely do? Do ya want this enough ta try wit' me?"

Taking a deep breath, she snuggled against him, closing any spaces that might still exist between them. "Yes, and yes."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, and dropped his mouth to kiss her temple, her throat, her shoulder. "Thank ya, Lavender, fer givin' me a second chance."

Turning her head, she captured his lips, and they relaxed into each other, kissing without heat, but feeling this time. It wasn't sexual, more romantic, and it was all Seamus could have ever hoped for.

When they were redressed, he was sure to pick up his wand and take it with him on the way out, feeling its calming weight in his palm. He and his girlfriend rejoined the others in the main room and sat down side-by-side on the sofa, quietly holding on to each other… and to the good they'd found together once more.

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_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**It occurred to me after watching the "Deathly Hallows – Part 1" movie that the Weasleys use a lot of Muggle slang ("wicked" being their favorite, it seems). I realize that this may be because their dad is a Muggle enthusiast, but it does reflect a certain understanding and knowledge of Muggle colloquial concepts. Extrapolating on that idea, it makes sense that even pureblood wizards would hear such religious terms as "God," "Christ," "Allah," "Jehovah," "Buddah," "Krishna," etc. as long as there were half-bloods and Muggle-borns around (especially the latter, as most of them would probably have been raised as typical Brits into the religion of their Muggle parents and gone to Muggle primary school before getting their Hogwarts letters). Since Seamus is Irish and a half-blood (on his father's side), it would make sense he'd have heard at least some reference to the Muggle Catholic religion at some point in his life, wizard or no.**

**.**

**Translator for "Seamus speak" (keep in mind that some of these phrases he only uses when his accent is really thick – i.e. as he gets more excited, or when he's tired; otherwise, he's very conscientious of his accent and tries hard to speak without it):**

**A'tween = Between**

**A'fore = Before**

**Anythang = Anything**

**Cunnie = Vagina (short for 'cunt' – which is the favorite slang for this part of the anatomy for women in Irish slang)**

**Gonna = Going to**

**Honest to Jim = An older Irish slang term meaning "I swear on my penis." I have no idea where it originated, but my daughter's best friend's mum (who is from Ireland) says it jokingly on occasion (men and women use the term, although it's more a masculine phrase, honestly).**

**Jimmie = Irish slang for "penis."**

**Kinda = Kind of/Sort of**

**Me = My**

**Ne'r = Never**

**O' = Of**

**Pene = Penetration**

**Quim = Vagina **

**S'pose = Suppose**

**Shale ta bones = An old Irish saying that is the equivalent of "balls to bones" – meaning, the whole package, top to bottom.**

**Ta = To**

**Th' = The**

**Thangs = Things**

**Verra = Very**

**Wan' = Want**

**Wanna = Want to**

**Wit' = With**

**Ya = You**

**Ye've = You've**

**Yer/Yers = Your/Yours**

**.**

**Musical Selection for this Chapter:**_** "Just The Way You Are" by Bruno Mars. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**Oh, her eyes… her eyes  
make the stars look like they're not shining.  
Her hair… her hair  
falls perfectly without her trying.**_

_**She's so beautiful,  
And I tell her every day.**_

_**Yeah, I know… I know  
when I compliment her,  
she won't believe me.  
And it's so… it's so  
sad to think she don't see what I see.**_

_**But every time she asks me, "Do I look okay?"  
I say:**_

_**"When I see your face,  
there's not a thing that I would change,  
'cause you're amazing  
just the way you are.  
And when you smile,  
The whole world stops and stares for a while,  
'cause girl you're amazing  
just the way you are."**_

_**Her nails… her nails  
I could kiss them all day, if she'd let me.  
Her laugh… her laugh  
she hates, but I think it's so sexy.**_

_**She's so beautiful,**_

_**And I tell her every day.**_

_**Oh, you know, you know, you know  
I'd never ask you to change.  
If perfect is what you're searching for,  
then just stay the same.**_

_**So, don't even bother asking  
if you look okay.  
You know I say:**_

_**"When I see your face,  
there's not a thing that I would change,  
'cause you're amazing  
just the way you are.  
And when you smile,  
The whole world stops and stares for a while,  
'cause girl you're amazing  
just the way you are."**_

_**The way you are…  
The way you are…  
Girl, you're amazing  
just the way you are!**_

_**"When I see your face,  
there's not a thing that I would change,  
'cause you're amazing  
just the way you are.  
And when you smile,  
The whole world stops and stares for a while,  
'cause girl you're amazing  
just the way you are."**_


	33. Chapter 6C: Blaise & Ginny

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**theena.x **__recommended the song, __**"**_**Crossfire**_**" by Brandon Flowers **__for Blaise & Ginny this go around (actually, she recommended it for Draco & Hermione, but I thought it a perfect complement to Blaise's thoughts here, and it fit with the whole 'storm' theme I've got going for this couple). So, this chapter is dedicated to __**theena.x **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! **

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – "Be Bop a UL, she's our beta… our beta… I don't mean maybe… Be Bop a UL, she's our beta doll!" Okay, so I'm no Buddy Holly, I know, but it was the intent that counted, right? ^_~ Anyway, say thanks to her for another really nice job helping me out on this chapter, yeah?

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter, folks?**

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**CHAPTER SIX (#3): Blaise & Ginny**

Ginny's relaxing catnap lasted only twenty or so minutes before she began whimpering from what Blaise knew were probably the first cravings of her new power stirring through her blood. She turned over in his arms, snuggling deeper into his chest, trying to go back to sleep, clearly still tired from their earlier sexual exploits.

He waited until her light slumber overtook her again, then carefully tested the edges of her powers with his own aura. To his immense relief, he discovered her sex-magic strength to be barely half of his - which meant that the insatiable need for sexual gratification that drove most of their kind would be much less in his lover, and she wouldn't be quite so tormented or hounded by the continual hunger for sex.

It further told him that only her mother was granted with the gift, and that her father was a 'normal' wizard, not a Sex-Warlock.

Well, that certainly explained why the Weasley family could register to become their own sovereign nation. Six boys, one girl, all only a few years apart… Mrs. Weasley was a baby-making goddess.

Then again, so was _his_ mother. There were, to date, seven children (himself included) in his family as well - one for each husband she'd married. Although, in his case, he was quite sure that his mother, Carmen, was nothing like Ginevra's, who had remained faithful to one man (as far as he was aware) all her life. _His_ mum was getting ready to marry husband number eight in December this year (ironically, he was the same Sex-Warlock she'd been having an on-again, off-again affair with for almost twenty years, and Blaise wondered why she just hadn't married the man long ago).

The real question that now hounded him, however, was why her parents hadn't explained the possibility of inheriting this type of magic to her? Did it have something to do with the fact that they would also then have to explain to Ginny that somewhere in their family's past a Veela had inter-married (for that's where sex-magic derived)? He'd always assumed the Weasleys could care less about blood status, but perhaps that wasn't the whole truth.

In his own case, he understood the reasons well enough: his family had no idea what he was, as he'd done an excellent job of intentionally dampening his aura whenever in their presence. Receiving the endowment of sex-magic was something usually passed exclusively through the maternal side of the lineage. A male born with sex-magic - like him - was _extremely_ rare, and as such was considered a _very_ hot commodity (except amongst the staunchest of pureblood families who held to the strictest of breeding tradition, of course). If news got out about what he was, he'd never be left alone, continually harassed by sexual deviants or curiosity thrill-seekers who sought out novelty and wanted to "try out" a male Veela's powers (for that was, in effect, what a Sex-Warlock was, albeit a watered-down version). If she were to know his status, he was sure his mother would attempt to manipulate him into using his gifts to make money and political alliances for his family, maybe even going so far as to dictate to him whom he should take as a spouse. He would not follow in the footsteps of his three elder siblings and become Carmen's toy to whore out as she saw fit. He wanted a wife – and a life - of his own choosing.

He looked down at Ginny, whose face was squinched up in obvious discomfort. Dipping his hand between her legs, he found her practically dripping wet. She needed to sate this beast so she could learn to control it fast. Better to get it done now, in a controlled environment, away from others.

He recalled what had happened to _him_ after Draco had found him in the showers after Lucian Bole and Peregrine Derrick had finished with him in Third Year – how he'd collapsed in his bed, and Malfoy had brought him pain medication that he'd swiped from Pomfrey's stash, and then he'd slept for a bit because the potion had made him drowsy… How Theo had come into their shared dorm room at some point when everyone else was out to get something from his trunk, and how Blaise had stirred awake… How this newly unleashed, sexual power inside of Blaise had manifested unwittingly then, dampened even as it was by the healing draught… How he'd unintentionally lured Theo to his side by accidentally reaching out and stroking the man's aura… How he'd cried and begged his friend to run and get help when he realized what he'd done, terrified by the glazed look in Theo's enthralled eyes, knowing he was responsible somehow… How despite his weak protests, he'd been just as beguiled by the need to find sexual satisfaction, and that he'd reached for his friend, even as he'd cursed himself… They'd ended up tumbling around on the bed, kissing, touching, stroking, and sucking each other off. There hadn't been anal penetration, as Blaise was too scared to try intercourse again with a man after what had happened to him just hours before, but he and Theo had come _very_ close to crossing that line.

Magically enchanting them both through several satisfying orgasms, temporarily sating the awakened Sex-Warlock within, the two had quickly gotten redressed in the afters, confusion and shame having opened up a wide chasm in their friendship. Unable to bear the silence any longer, Blaise had begged for Theo's forgiveness for taking advantage of him, but Theo hadn't seemed to understand that he'd been compelled by sex-magic; he'd thought it had been a mutual thing between them and he'd admitted to liking it. Blaise was disgusted with himself, knowing he'd sexually assaulted his friend as surely as he'd been raped himself, and he'd made it known in no uncertain terms to Theo that what they'd done would _never_ happen between them ever again. There had followed six months of awkwardness between the two roommates as a result, and even then, it had taken another two years before they became really good, trusting friends once more.

He sighed with regret, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. That was a day he'd wished had never happened.

After that, Blaise had begun practicing how to control his new abilities on his own, and reading every book he could find on the subject of sex-magic at Hogwarts in the library (and once he discovered their origins, he read up on the Veela, too), realizing then what his mother was, and why he was the recipient of such a gift. With his newfound knowledge, he'd also been able to guess that one of his attackers in the men's showers that afternoon had been a Sex-Warlock as well (of the two, he'd bet on it being Lucian Bole), and that the wizard's sexual "attentions" were responsible for setting Blaise's powers off several years before they would have naturally revealed themselves.

That had been the most difficult year of his life, honestly, with both of his best friendships strained (he wasn't comfortable around Draco after what had happened with Theo, so he'd distanced himself somewhat from that friendship, too), with not going home for the holidays out of fear that his mother would find out his secret, and with struggling to get his cravings under control (having to jerk off sometimes five or six times a day for the first several months, and balancing that in between studies, classes, sleeping and eating). In addition, he was still going through puberty, and the growing pains and chemical imbalances were driving him nearly mad by the end of second term.

That summer, he'd requested to spend the holidays with his father in Morocco and hadn't returned to England until the day before he was off to school again, asking that his dad help him purchase his supplies at Diagon Alley and see him off at the train, not his mother or one of his elder siblings, as had been tradition the first three years. The truth was, he'd had reason to be angry with his mother before – letting his dad slip away from his life, only to have a line of men to serve as surrogates until they either left or mysteriously ended up dead – but by that point, going back to school with a newfound understanding of who and what his family was about - he was _furious_ with her, blaming her for his cursed existence.

Fourth Year had been a little more tolerable because of the excitement surrounding the visitors from the other two schools of magic. Everyone had been in good spirits, and more "adventuresome" than usual for those eight months. The atmosphere had given Blaise ample opportunity to overcome his previous fears, and to reclaim his lost sense of self-worth. He'd finally been able to talk himself into having sex on his terms when Hestia and Flora Carrow accompanied him to the Yule Ball, and then led him into an empty dorm room in the dungeons after (he'd cut his powers loose and the three of them ended up shagging for four _very satisfying_ hours, he pretending to have cast an Aphrodisiac Charm to explain away the extreme lust between them). He'd continued his affair with the twins for a few months after that, until Easter crept around and they'd decided to call it quits, but in that time, he'd learned _so much_ about technique, personal control, and bedroom etiquette (including the 'silence in the afters is golden' rule).

Pretending to go home for the holiday break that spring, Blaise instead made his way to Diagon Alley after arriving back at Kings Cross Station on the train and went to see Madam Sabrina Aset, the registered Sex-Witch in Knockturn Alley. Surprised to see the gift manifest in one so young, she'd felt it her duty to take him under her wing that whole week, letting him stay with her in her room and canceling all other appointments, dedicating herself to helping him control his abilities and learn sexual technique to help channel the energies during sex properly so he wouldn't need release quite so frequently. When he'd returned to the train platform eight days later to go back to school, he had the tools he needed to assure he could survive through school without hurting himself or others. It had cost him much of his private stash of galleons to accomplish, and he'd gone without for the remainder of that year (until Christmas, when he received his annual thousand galleon stipend from his generous grandmother), but it had been worth every knut to get himself reined in.

That was the October he'd first been formally introduced to Ginevra Weasley across the Quidditch pitch… the day his obsession had begun for his red-headed lioness.

At the time, he hadn't understood why he'd been so compelled to be near her, or to learn everything he could about her. He'd stalked her without realizing that was what he'd been doing, desperate to get her attention without appearing the sop. When the silent looks traded across the dining hall or in the corridors hadn't worked, he'd purposefully upped the ante during Quidditch practices or matches, forcing her to talk to him – to touch him, even – by pushing at her, quite literally.

It all made perfect sense to him now, however: their antagonism had begun as a result of his frustrated, unresolved desire for her. From the start, his Sex-Warlock side – the male Veela within, miniscule presence though it was, as he was only a fourth by blood – had been trying to get his mate's attention, recognizing her even before her own 'awakening.' It's why he'd been so jealous of her relationships with other men over the years, too.

His mate…

The thought got him harder than steel in a second, and in the next instant, moving instinctually, he had her turned on her back, and was easing his cock into Ginny's sweet, wet body, joining them together, as they belonged. "Yes," she whispered, coming wide awake, her golden-brown eyes practically glowing now as her Sex-Witch side came to life in a flare of heat. Her aura wrapped itself around him and sunk deep inside every pore of his body, just as he buried himself to the hilt in her once more.

Her powers burned hot over them both, and they came together wildly, passionately - several times in as many minutes. Again and again, Blaise emptied his seed into his lover, enticed onward by the promise of the next climax's high, and then the next, and the next… "I love you," he gasped with each release, holding nothing of his heart back, falling over the edge of reason and sanity as they coupled all across the bed, their bodies never disconnecting, flowing from one position to another in an ever-changing rhythm, their hearts intuitively choreographing their bonding.

"Blaise!" his witch cried for him as she reached her peak once more, her shaking hands grabbing at him in desperate fear, the tears flowing down her cheeks as the emotional intensity of their love-making overwhelmed her. "Blaise, I can't stop… I can't… I'm scared!"

Understanding how terrifying it was not to have control of your body or your emotions, driven by some outside force not to stop until your body gave out and your heart gave everything, he held her to him, lifting her so she straddled his lap, and rocked her back and forth upon his length. "I've got you, Ginny. Trust me and let go. Take me as many times as you need. You won't hurt me."

Their hips surged against each other again as she rode him in a cadenced, graceful progression with her head tossed back, her long, red-black hair brushing his knees, and her cries of encouragement driving him on relentlessly towards fulfillment. "Yes, _yesssss_… deeper… _harder!_ Again and again… Never stop!"

Grabbing a hold of her waist, he held on tight to keep her in control, guiding her over him to bring her quickly, safely. As she crested the wave of yet another shattering orgasm within seconds, she cried out and threw her head forward, biting hard into the flesh at the bend of his throat, breaking skin with sharp, tiny canines. Groaning more at the eroticism of the act, and less the pain, Blaise's magical aura shivered in response to the bite mark, and compelled him to mimic her, biting her back in the same way. It was instinctual, uncontrollable, and even as he did it, Blaise knew it was irrevocable as well. The shared bloodletting became a magical contract, binding their souls together permanently. They both came in a final, powerful explosion of feeling, their golden auras twining together, now enduringly attuned to one another.

Utterly exhausted, they slumped against each other, holding on, both trembling.

It was long minutes before she stirred. "What have we done?" she whispered, her voice terrified. "I feel you, in my head, in my heart, all around me."

"I'm… not… _completely_ sure," Blaise admitted with a bit of anxiety. "But what just happened… I think was a mate-bonding." He then explained to her all he knew of Sex-Witches and Sex-Warlocks; how they originated when the Veela mated with humans, that it was mainly a hereditary trait carried through the female branch of a family, and how a male sex-magic practitioner – like him – was a rare oddity. He postulated for her that somewhere back in either her mother's or father's side of the family, there must be Veela blood for her to have become a Sex-Witch.

Eyes wide in astonishment, the barest hint of anger at the betrayal (from her parents not explaining any of this to her, he assumed) gleaming in them, Ginny puzzled through all he'd just told her. "You mean to tell me that we just performed some sort of… Veela ritual?"

He nodded, knowing what was coming next and dreading it already by the way his lover tensed up.

"You said a 'mate-bonding,'" she furthered her suspicions. "Bonding for how long?"

He sighed and placed his forehead to hers, looking her in the eye. "I don't know. This is completely new territory for me, too. Nothing I've read spoke of the coming together of a Sex-Witch and a Sex-Warlock. But I do know that… Ginny, once a Veela takes a mate, it's for life."

Her breathing became erratic and she pushed away from him, trying to escape the cradle of his embrace. Blaise held on tighter. "Let me go!" she shoved against his strength futilely, attempting to disconnect their bodies. He merely increased the pressure of his hold. "Let me up!"

Tipping over so that she was pressed into the mattress, he held her down with his weight and waited out her panic attack, pinning her wrists to the bed to make sure she couldn't scratch him. All the while, inside he was slowly dying with the knowledge that she didn't want to be tied to him, despite having claimed to love him.

In an instant, she stilled, a sob escaping her lips. "Oh… I'm hurting you. I'm…" Fresh tears poured down her cheeks and she began crying, her chest heaving with the effort. "It's not what you think! It's not being with you that's fucked me up. Merlin, I'm just so scared by _all _of this, Blaise! It's too much to take in at once. I feel like… everything I've ever believed about my life has been a lie, and I'm so out of control inside and out. Why didn't my parents tell me any of this? Who the hell _are_ they really? _Am I even human?_"

She turned her head in shame and sobbed, and Blaise's heart physically ached for her. Gathering her up into his embrace, he held her to his chest and let her unleash the torrent of her pent-up fears.

It was torture to bear witness to his mate's suffering and not be able to do a thing to fix the situation. Her emotional breakdown was a combination of everything she had learned and had to come to terms with tonight: her childhood rape at the hands of a monster; their changing relationship and introducing sex between them; the discovery that she had a power that the more 'up standing' members of society considered ill-breeding (lower than even a regular whore in some cases), and having to learn how to control that power now that it had been unleashed; finding out that her family wasn't as honest about its background as she'd always naïvely believed. Given all that, it was perfectly understandable that she felt like her whole world was crashing down on top of her all at once.

But Blaise had been there once, too - minus the falling in love and taking a mate thing, of course, (which was huge all on its own, and he had yet to truly process it himself) - so he could intimately empathize and offer her at least some comfort. He hadn't been as lucky back in Third Year, when he'd been alone to tackle this monstrous responsibility that had been heaped on him years before he was even remotely ready, and the result had been a manic, almost suicidal depression that had taken him more than a year to overcome. He was relieved that his Ginny wouldn't have to go through that. "I told you, love, I'm here and I understand," he offered gently in her ear. "I know you're scared. True? I am too. But you're not alone, my lioness. I'm yours, always. I'll stay with you for as long as you want me."

"Promise?" she sniffled against his shoulder.

He nodded. "Promise."

"I love you," she whispered, holding to him tightly, the storm of her tears quieting down for now.

Trying to lighten her burden, he teased her about her residual hiccups, coaxing a small smile from her at last. "Do you want a bath?" he asked, smoothing the hair from her sticky forehead. "You must be rather sore."

One ginger eyebrow raised in amusement as she wiped the salty tracks off her cheek with the back of one hand. "Yes, I'd love one, but… Hey! Did you just brag about your size?"

Chuckling, he kissed her lightly freckled nose and began disconnecting their bodies very slowly, not wanting to cause her pain. "No, my technique."

That radiant smile that captured his heart beamed across her impish features and she laughed, shaking her pretty, ginger head. "If I recall correctly, _I_ rode _you_ pretty hard, mister."

Blaise stopped on a sickle, only half the way out of her, instantly turned-on by this conversation. His cock went stiff in an instant, his magical aura reached for her again, and his lover gasped in surprise. A moment later, her face melted into a lazy kind of leer, her voice lowering an octave, becoming instantly husky with desire. "Wanna shag again before a bath?"

Staring down at her challengingly, knowing how much she loved to brave a dare. "Only if you ask me as your mate."

Twining her thighs around his waist, and her arms around his neck, his lioness completed the circle by gliding her golden, warm, sensual magical energies enticingly over his. "Fuck me hard, my mate. Make me beg you to come in me."

He chuckled darkly, bending his lips to hers once more. "As you wish, my love," he conceded and proceeded to give his sex-kitten exactly what she'd asked for.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**_

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Crossfire" by Brandon Flowers. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**There's a still in the street outside your window…**_  
_**You're keeping secrets on your pillow.**_  
_**Let me inside - no cause for alarm.**_  
_**I promise tonight not to do no harm.**_  
_**I promise you, babe, I won't do you no harm.**_

_**And we're caught up in the crossfire**_  
_**of Heaven and Hell,**_  
_**and were searching for shelter.**_  
_**Lay your body down... **_  
_**Lay your body down... **_  
_**Lay your body down...**_

_**Watching you dress as you turn down the light…**_  
_**I forget all about the storm outside.**_  
_**Dark clouds roll their way over town.**_  
_**Heartache and pain came a'pouring down,**_  
_**like chaos in the rain.**_  
_**Yeah, they're handing it out.**_

_**And we're caught up in the crossfire**_  
_**of Heaven and Hell,**_  
_**and were searching for shelter.**_  
_**Lay your body down...**_  
_**Lay your body down...**_  
_**Lay your body down...**_  
_**Lay your body down...**_  
_**Lay your body down...**_  
_**Lay your body down...**_

_**Tell the devil that he can go back from where he came.**_  
_**His fiery arrows drew their bead in vain.**_  
_**And when the hardest part is over, we'll be here…**_  
_**and our dreams will break the boundaries of our fears.**_

_**The boundaries of our fears…**_

_**Lay your body down…**_  
_**Lay your body down…**_  
_**Lay your body down…**_  
_**Lay your body down…**_  
_**Lay your body down…**_  
_**Lay your body down…**_  
_**Next to mine.**_


	34. Chapter 6D: Ron & Pansy

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**Careylan **__recommended the song, __**"**_**Hungry**_**" by Ben Lee **__for Ron & Pansy this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Ron's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**Careylan **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! **

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – Could a person ask for a better beta? Could a person want for a better friend?

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter, folks?**

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**CHAPTER SIX (#4): Ron & Pansy**

As soon as the group broke up, Ron hurried behind Pansy and swept her into his arms, bridal style, pleased by her exuberant laugh she let out and how she flung her arms about his neck as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. He took them to their room, shutting the door behind him with his booted heel, and effortlessly carried her over to the bed. Seating his backside on the edge, he positioned her on his lap so they could talk.

"So, what's your card say?" he grinned at her and waggled his eyebrows.

"What's yours?" she countered, moving to take his card to read it first. Reaching into his back pocket to grab his card, she sliced the delicate skin between her thumb and index finger accidentally along on one of its sharp edges. "Shite," she muttered under her breath, sticking it into her mouth to stop the bleeding.

"Here, let me see, baby," he crooned, gently guiding her hand out of her mouth and towards his, placing a kiss upon the very thin, already-healing cut.

"That's dangerous, you know," she admonished, pulling away. "The card could have germs."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "_I_ have germs," he teasingly countered. "But it's too late for you now." Wiggling her on his lap, he grinned. "I've already infected you."

Pans laughed. "That's one way to look at love, I suppose." Playfully, she whapped him on the arm. "Oh, just read the card!"

Keeping her arms about him, he palmed his action card and read it for her:

_**DEED: You get to use a sex toy on your partner.**_

His partner's eyes lit up with smoldering, unabashed lust. "Have something in mind already?" she rather naughtily asked, her voice lowering into that register of husky that did things to Ron's sanity.

"Yeah," he replied, flipping his card away. Taking hers out of her hand as well and doing likewise without looking at it, he laid her back on the bed, looming over her. "I liked the idea of you in chains. How about some pretty jewelry?" Summoning a sexy nipple-to-clit 'Y' chain to hand, he sat up and showed it to her. "Wanna try it on for me, baby?"

Her hands were already fumbling to undo the buttons on the front of her dress, and then she rolled over for him to get her zipper down. Together, they made fast work of shucking her clothing, and then she was on her back again as he was fitting the light clamps to her pretty breasts. "Too much pressure?" he asked, his mouth going dry as he watched her nipple harden and go tight as the metal ring circled the sensitive flesh and magically tightened to fit. He'd desperately wanted to try this with a woman after he'd accidentally walked in on one of Fleur and Bill's "sessions" at the Cottage this last Easter break and had seen his sister-in-law modeling a similar piece. The fantasy of his perfect woman wearing this kind of get-up for him had since been his favorite masturbatory material.

Pansy moaned, and the sound shot straight to Ron's already-throbbing cock. "Oooh," she sighed. "It feels wicked. Don't stop."

Carefully, he set the other loop about her neglected nipple, adjusting it until she nodded that the squeezing weight was perfect. Tugging the chain taut to test it, his witch jerked and gasped in pleasure. Her pink tongue peeked out to wet her lips as her breathing increased. "_Yesss_," she hissed, closing her eyes and relaxing back, spreading her legs for him and letting him have his way with her.

Ron had never felt more sexually powerful than at that moment. He'd always been rather submissive in the bedroom, and he'd been fine allowing that because it meant he wouldn't scare away his interests; he was physically large, and he knew he could unintentionally hurt any girl he was with if he wasn't conscientious of the differences in their strength. But with Pansy, she wanted – _needed_, it seemed – for him to take control of their private interludes, and that permission freed him to be the man he'd always wanted to be in a sexual situation. "That's it, baby," he coaxed her legs further with gentle hands under her calves, bending her knees up and out, opening her wide for him. "Trust me." Fitting the clit clamp to her, he assured it wasn't too tight and exactly where she'd like him to place it by asking her questions as he positioned it. When it was on, she moaned again, wiggling her hips. "You like?" he asked, so freaking turned on by her lying here, completely at his mercy and wearing the jewelry he'd placed upon her with painstaking care.

She arched her neck. "I _love_," she whispered, her cheeks and neck flushed with blood from her obvious arousal. Between her legs, she was very damp. "It feels so feminine and sinful. Pull."

With a precise tug, he had her arching her spine off the mattress and crying out, her hands gripping the coverlet with a firm grasp.

"More," she begged.

Dropping to his knees, he bent between her open thighs and watched how tiny jerks of the chain affected her. The skin of her rosy labia darkened as blood rushed to the spot from his insistent stimulation, and glistening fluid leaked out of her opening to run down her slit. Capturing some on his tongue, he licked upwards through her seam, causing her to loudly exclaim her pleasure. She was too sweet, too tempting… He flicked her clit around the small clamp, pulling on it, stretching it upwards and out, then letting it relax. Again and again, he teased her this way, while his free hand reached desperately to undo his clothing, quickly shrugging it off.

Bare-chested, his trousers popped and unzipped, he freed himself into his palm and began stroking, even as he suckled hard on her tiny, clamped bud, wanting to fast bring her to climax. He yanked higher up on the chain, pulling her nipples at the same time as her little nub, and her hips bucked against him. She was positively soaking under his lips and chin now, her little breathy cries crescendoing as she quickly approached the edge.

The moment she came, he rose up, knelt on the bed, grabbed her waist and slammed himself inside her silken, sodden pussy. "Oh, _yeah!_ Merlin, baby, you're so _bloody _tight!" He fucked hard, going deep. "Tug the chain," he commanded, riding her good, his hips shuttling fast from the start. "I want you creaming on my cock again."

With trembling fingers, Pansy did as he bade, her two hands working the thin, metal cable in concert so one pulled on her nipples while the other concentrated on her clit. "Oh, God… _Ron!_" she mewled, bowing her spine from the electric stimulation. "Fuck me, fuck me, _fuck me!_ Never stop!"

Gritting his teeth, he ferociously pumped into her, giving her all of the strength in his body, watching her beautiful breasts bounce as he slammed home again and again, working through her swollen, velvet flesh with relentless desire. The need for fulfillment pounded through his veins, and even knowing he was possibly hurting her, he was compelled not to stop as she urged him on by meeting his fierce pistoning with her own, her pretty features twisted in blissful agony.

Pansy positively wailed as their flesh slapped together, chanting "yes," over and over, growing progressively louder with each pass. Driven mad by the scent pouring off their bodies, by the taste of her pussy lingering on his tongue, he mindlessly reached for that pinnacle of bliss. "Yeah, baby, take me! Take all of me! Come on, come on!" Sweat dripped off his brow and dribbled down his cheek, over his pecks as he struggled to stave-off his fiery release in vain. "Fuck, baby, I-I can't hold back! I'm coming! I'm-" As he threw his head back and shouted to the ceiling, his body shattering with pleasure, Pansy screamed with him, arched again, taking him to the hilt. He continued thrusting as he came, each jet of his release accompanied by a deep, very male groan of satisfaction. "Take my come, baby! Yeah… _yeah_, that's it!"

Exhausting himself of every drop, the wave passing over him after long seconds, he fell to his palms over her, his breath erupting across her face in hot, panting cascades as he struggled to regain his sanity. "Holy _fuck!_" he gasped in awe. "You're gonna kill me, woman." Collapsing to his elbows, he captured her mouth and passionately kissed her. "Godric, I love you so _bloody_ much!"

They clung to each other, their bodies both slick with their exertions, the smell of their sex heady in the air. A streak of all-male possessiveness overcame him, and he wrapped his lover up in his arms and held her tight against him, tiredly murmuring over and over again how he felt for her in her ear. Pansy was boneless in his embrace, her arms barely able to hold onto him as they both fell into a light doze just like that.

Sometime later, his witch shook his shoulder. "Ron?" she whispered, "Don't fall completely asleep, baby. There's still my card to do."

A grunt was the best he could offer in reply, despite the Restorative Potion in his system. And yet, it was that which activated now that his consciousness was stirring, and he wearily pushed himself onto his elbows again. "Shower first," he required with a tired grin. "It's the only thing that's gonna wake me up after jizzing so hard."

Nodding in agreement, she turned her head to the side to look into the corner of the room, and instantly, a luxurious, glass shower stall appeared. The water immediately began running, and he could tell from the steam that it would be hot and energizing.

Reluctantly slipping out of her, he made his feet and stripped off his boots, socks and the trousers that had bunched around his ankles. Unabashedly nude, holding out a hand, he helped his woman to her feet and they entered the shower together. He threw his face into the spray first thing, then let the water run over the back of his neck, before swapping off with her. Feeling more human, the potion doing its work to wake him up, he conjured a nice scented soap – one that matched her perfume – and a washcloth so he could clean up his witch.

Pansy moaned in pleasure as he sponged her down, massaging her shoulders and neck at the same time. "You really _are_ the perfect guy, aren't you?" she sighed in happiness.

Ron kissed her throat. "I aim to please."

Leaning back into him, she let him nibble on her pulse for a bit. "Ron, the game… We need to finish this round before time runs out." She recited for him what her card's requirement was:

_**DEED: You get to ask your partner any five questions you want about them and they must answer wholly and truthfully.**_

"Hey, I've done a lot of confessing tonight," he riled with a half-hearted growl.

Naughtily rubbing her arse against his cock, stirring its interest again (Merlin, he _could not_ get enough of her!), Pansy snickered. "And you're going to do even more it seems."

Rolling his eyes, he easily conceded. "Yeah, fine. I suppose I have nothing to hide anyway."

She looked at him over her shoulder. "Well, except your true wizarding name, but I guess that's everyone's deepest secret. It's certainly mine."

"Hmm, hadn't considered that," he admitted, continuing his washing of her at the same time as carefully weighing his thoughts on the matter. _Could_ he trust her with something as important as the key to his magical soul? He loved her, and he felt oddly closer to her than just about anyone else in the world, and in such a short period of time, too, but still… not even Harry knew his real name - or Ginny, or Fred, or George, or any of his other siblings. Only he and his parents knew it.

How much was he really willing to risk on Pansy Parkinson?

Admitting that he was totally intoxicated with Slytherin's Queen, infatuated with her in a way he'd never been with any other woman – not just physically, but mentally - should have set alarm bells ringing in his Gryffindor's head. It didn't though. Now wasn't that odd?

But was it the same for her?

Hanging the washcloth up on the wall rack, turning her around so that the running water didn't splash up into her face, Ron wrapped his arms about her to pull her backside against him again. Savoring the sensation of her smaller, slighter form being protected by his larger frame, feeling them fit together like lock and key, his heart beat faster in his chest.

This was no mere infatuation or passing fancy on his part; he'd had that before with 'Mione and Romilda and Lavender. No, what he was feeling for Pansy was deeper, connecting him to her on a level he'd never known before with _anyone_. "Do you wanna know it?" he asked evenly, testing. "My wizarding name?"

Reaching back and lightly smacking him on the side of his thigh, she chuffed. "Quit joking."

The water loudly pattered across his broad back in the enclosed stall, but aside from that, there was no other sound between them. He patiently waited for the moment when she figured out that he wasn't kidding. It didn't take long… another few seconds of his silence, and she went stiff in his arms.

"That isn't funny, Ronald Weasley. You can't give your wizarding name that easily. Someone could use it against you."

Leaning over her shoulder and turning her head with a gentle hand so they were face-to-face, he assessed her a moment more, curious as to how far this would go now that he'd opened this can of worms. "Only if you don't trust the other person," he countered. "Are you saying I can't trust you?"

Pansy stared at him as if he'd lost his marbles. "Ron… really, it's very dangerous to speak it aloud. What if someone else hears?"

Something in his chest hurt by her refusal to answer. "That's not what I asked you," he reminded her.

His girl looked absolutely lost. "But… but… I'm _Slytherin!_ Gryffindors _never_ trust us! You don't even like us most of the time!"

That didn't make a lick of sense, considering all they'd been through. "What I feel for you goes beyond 'like' at this point, baby. I think I've made that clear by now. 'Sides, I think Harry might not agree with you. Or 'Mione, either. Maybe even Gin, too." He made a quick mental note to find out what that sneaky Slytherin bastard, Zabini, was doing with his little sister, worried about her.

Glancing into the liquid, dark eyes before him, Ron refocused on the here and now, and lopsidedly smirked at his beautiful girl. "So, wanna know it?"

Pansy continued to stare at him in disbelieving wonder. "You'd really tell it to me?"

He nodded with forthright earnestness. "Really."

Biting her bottom lip, she stared at his chin for long seconds. He didn't press, just patiently waited for her to decide. "What… would you want me to… give back?" she hesitantly asked.

Tilting his head, he threw her an incredulous glower. "Nothing."

"So you'd give me the biggest secret in your life and not want anything in return?" she dubiously clarified. "Seriously?"

Turning her about in his arms, he forced her full attention by cupping her cheek and holding it steady. "Baby, you've got my heart. That's the best I can ever give away to anyone."

Large tear droplets literally dripped down her cheeks in hot waves, encountering his hand, sliding around his skin, or falling into the cup of his palm. "You _really_ love me, don't you? It's not just a feeling in the moment."

He leaned in and tenderly kissed her lips. "Aedel Ruaidh Rí Weasley," he murmured his proof, looking at her through a half-lidded gaze, bashfully smiling. "Means, 'Noble, Red-Haired King.'"

"_OH. MY._ _GOD,_" she gasped, her eyes showing far too much white. "You… you…"

He shrugged. "Too late to take it back now."

"B-b-but I-" she stammered, stopped herself forcefully by shutting her eyes and pursing her lips, took a very deep breath, and then peeled back her lids to stare into his very soul. "Candiss Aedelind Parkinson," she blurted in a rush, her cheeks coloring bright pink. "That's mine."

Something tight in Ron's chest loosened up, allowing him to breathe again. "Pretty," he smiled with relief. "What's it mean?"

Sniffing, she wiped at her tears and chuckled. "'Queen that is Noble.'"

He softly ran his thumb over her bottom lip. "Funny that both of our names mean, 'noble,' and we're named a matching royal couple - King and Queen." He grinned. "That decides it: we must be fated to be together."

Her throat convulsed twice, and then she threw her arms about his neck, buried her head in his chest and broke down into sobs again, as if his words had somehow wounded her.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Shaking her head, she hid her face. Ron didn't push, letting her tears wash over her as thoroughly as the shower washed the sweat from his skin. Was it what he'd said, or was she just emotional from all of the sex stuff? He knew sometimes girls got mushy after orgasming. Or maybe he'd pushed things too far with giving up his wizarding name? Worry pitted his guts.

It took several minutes for Pansy to calm enough to speak to him again. Sniffling, she limply rested against him. "I know my first question," she rasped, clearing her throat of emotion. "Were you serious when you said you wanted us to be together after this game ends?"

There was no hesitation in his answer. "Abso-fucking-lutely, baby. I want you in my life."

He felt her swallow several times, sniffling again. "Even if I was flat broke, and had nothing to bring to the relationship except, well, me - as I am right now?"

Ron nodded. "You're more important to me than money, Pans. I'd take you any day of the week, with or without galleons in your pockets. 'Sides, I wasn't raised with a lot of it growing up, so it doesn't mean as much to me as other people, I guess. Money's just a means to an end, yeah? It can't make me smile as much as you could. It couldn't warm my bed. It provides comfort, right, but it doesn't really make a person happy in the long run. _You _make me the happiest man in the world, not my bank account."

His hands slid into her hair, massaged her neck to try to comfort her, even as he tried to quell that sinking sensation in his stomach. He'd once had this kind of frank talk with 'Mione and it hadn't ended so well, her arguing that he was simply making excuses to be lazy and not taking advantage of their youth to achieve a better standard of life. He cared for the woman as his best female friend and first love, but often, he didn't agree with her philosophy on life. Reaching for that next hurdle was good and fine, but material possessions didn't bring a person as much joy or contentment as family. This was something he, as a child of multiple siblings and little means, wholeheartedly believed in (he'd always secretly thought that 'Mione being an only child of professionally-working parents might be the reason for her ambitious practicality). This major difference in their individual world views was, truthfully, the big underlying cause for their break-up. He hoped he wasn't setting himself up here for more of the same with Pansy.

"You're a pureblood from a wealthy family, used to the best clothes, houses, food, and whatever else it is rich people enjoy. I'm smart enough to see that being with me would be a step down for you in that case," he painfully acknowledged. Bending his head, he nuzzled her neck with his nose, shutting his eyes and praying for a positive end to this conversation. "It's true I can't give you much in the way of fancy dresses or jewelry or trips to the salon, but what I _can_ give you is honest and real. I promise I won't ever play you. I won't lie to you. I won't abuse you. I won't cheat on you. I'll treat you with respect and goodness. And if you'd be mine, I'd work hard to put the world at your feet. Is that enough for you, though?"

Pansy's arms squeezed around him tighter. "I need to ask you again: do you _really _love me, Ron? Think about it before you answer."

She'd dodged his question, he noted, but with a deep sigh, he surrendered utterly to hers, not needing any more time to ponder that which he already knew through every cell in his body. "Yeah, I really love you, Pans."

Pulling back, she stared up at him, moving her hand so she brushed his lips with light caresses of her fingertips. "Enough to… run away with me… after graduation? To leave England with me and never look back?"

He blinked, surprised by such a question. "Wh-why?"

Tears pooled in her eyes again. "Or if that's asking too much… if it were the only way we could be together, would you-" She shut her eyes, and seemed to be gathering her courage. "Tonight, during the game, would you be willing to… give me a child instead?"

He felt his jaw unhinge, his eyes widen with shock, his world slow to a stop. "You're serious?"

Rivulets of her emotional pain ran down her cheeks again as she nodded. "Otherwise we can't… after tonight, I can't see you again."

It took several long seconds for Ron's brain to re-engage enough to fathom what she'd just said. "Why the bloody hell not?"

At his irate tone, she burst into tears again, lowering her head. "Because my parents have arranged a marriage for me to a pureblood wizard from Durmstrang I've never met!" Her sharp fingernails scored his shoulders as her grip tightened. "I'm bound by magical contract to be his after graduation."

Confused, Ron puzzled through her words. "If you're bound, then-"

Her sobs were loud, and her slim shoulders shook. "There are only three ways out: running, matching the amount my parents gave over for my dowry to buy out the contract, or…"

"…getting knocked up by someone else before the wedding," he dully intoned, putting it all together. The puzzle pieces of their bizarre relationship fell into place at last, and Ron didn't like what he was seeing. He abruptly let her go, stepping back. In his chest, his heart slowly began dying as he realized the implications of her words. "I see. That's why you came on so strong." Running a hand through his damp, ginger hair, he barked an angry laugh. "Make me fall for you so I'd agree to get you up the duff, that it? Yeah, well, the plan worked great, baby - hook, line and sinker. How very Slytherin of you." He clenched his jaw, reaching for the shower door, pushing it open, needing to escape pronto before he smashed his fist through the glass that surrounded them.

Pansy grabbed at him, pulling at his arm to halt his departure. "What? No! That's _not_ what happened here!"

He yanked out of her grip and hurried towards his pile of clothing on the floor, uncaring that he was soaking wet, dripping water everywhere. A voice in his head screamed at him to get out and away from this woman, to not look back at her for fear of giving in, while another egged him on towards busting up the furniture in the room with his bare hands. Merlin, how could he have been so _fucking_ stupid?

"Wait, Ron, you're wrong!" his partner caught up to his side as he retrieved his trousers and tugged them on fast. "Would you stop, please? Listen to me!"

She snatched up one sleeve of his button-up at the same time as he did the other, and they tore it accidentally in a brief tug-of-war. Giving in, he simply dropped it, and reached for his embroidered jacket instead, letting her have the bloody shirt. What did he care for it, anyway? It belonged to Bill, who had plenty of money and could buy an entire store of those shirts if he wanted. He just needed to get out _now_.

"Stop, please!" she begged, gripping the lapels of the jacket next, hanging off of him. "It's not _at all_ what you're thinking! I fell in love with you! I didn't expect to, but I swear to you, Ron, I did!"

His chest ached as if he'd been struck with a bludger's bat right over his heart, and his stomach was nauseated as that Restorative Potion riled about, making him ill. How had he fallen for such an obvious ploy? She was Slytherin, for Godric's sake! Hadn't she warned him earlier about trusting her? "I don't believe you," he grit, trying to disengage her fisted hands from his person. "Now get off of me!"

She was crying again, and it was a grand performance, he had to admit. "How can I prove it to you?" she wailed, hopping up and riding his hips, wrapping her legs around his waist. "_Please_, don't leave! Give me a chance!"

There was no way to reach his boots with her so thoroughly tangled around him, and for a second, he considered leaving those behind too, but realized he _liked_ those shoes and had no intention of losing them as well. However, trying to bend at the waist with her extra weight, combined with her squirming about so fervently to keep her lock around him, tipped him over and the two of them landed on the bed rather hard, her under him. Pansy let out a yelp of pain, but didn't let him go even then.

His face fell into the cradle between her shoulder and neck, and unwittingly, he inhaled as he took a deep breath to rebuke her… and her beguiling scent rolled over him again, causing his body to instantly react. His cock jumped to proud erection once more in his pants, filling with blood, and his balls ripened with that hollow ache that intensified by the second as they grew heavier with need. Damn it all, he wanted her again…

Lying quite still, trying to regain composure was hard with her so enticingly wiggling against him. "Stop," he warned her, reaching to grab her wrists and pull them off, pinning them to the bed by her ears. "I said stop moving!" To his amazement, she did, almost instantly lying immobile and quiet under him, but her quickened breath pulsed hot against his neck, making it just as hard to concentrate.

"Say my wizarding name," she whispered the plea to him in the bitter lull. "Command me to tell you the truth."

A cold revulsion to the idea seized his conscience and he shook his head. "No, I won't take advantage of that confidence, no matter what you've done to me."

Silencing him with a small kiss to his earlobe, she sighed. "Ron, just do it, please. I promise I won't be angry. You deserve to know the truth, and this is the only way right now. And I trust you." He felt her hot tears bathing the skin of his cheek. "Please, don't walk away from me without giving me the chance to explain. If you decide to break it off after, I'll agree, but don't walk out that door without having all of the facts."

His blood pulsed through his veins and arteries at a million miles a second as he considered her request. If they did this, it would irrevocably change everything between them, for she would forever know he could and would use her magic against her if necessary in the future. It was wrong, an abuse of power, even with her consent. He knew it…

…and yet, he was going to do it anyway, wasn't he? His bleeding heart _needed_ to know whether she'd ever really loved him, whether he'd been played for a fool, no matter the cost.

Pushing up on his elbows, he looked into those beautiful, dark and sincerely frightened eyes and, tamping down on a last-minute twinge of doubt, he opened his mouth and became Pansy's _unquestionable _Master. "Candiss Aedelind Parkinson, I command you to truthfully answer some questions for me."

The change in her face was immediate as she didn't even try to fight the compulsion. She relaxed until her features were utterly still and vacant, as if she were under the Imperius Curse. All of her limbs went slack under him as well, falling away from his body. She lay utterly limp underneath him. "Yes, sir."

Ron exhaled sharply, tightly shut his eyes and cringed. "_Fuck_," he swore, knowing he now owned her will until he released her with a counter-command. As of this moment, he could literally do _anything_ he wanted to her, require her to do any number of depraved and evil things all for his pleasure, and she would have absolutely _no_ choice but to do as he wished. That knowledge was both a rush as well as a horrifying feeling, reminding him too sharply of the time back in fourth year when he'd watched Mad-Eye cast the Imperius live in the classroom upon that spider; at first, it had been a laugh seeing the eight-legged creature dance about, spooking the class, but then when the old codger had tried to make it drown itself, and it struggled not to obey… that feeling was the same as this one now, only it was _much_ worse knowing that he was responsible this time.

The truth was, he had always prided himself on being a good man, in general (sometimes, he faltered, sure, but he was basically an all right bloke). Right then, however, as he looked into those dark, deadened eyes of the girl he loved, Ron learned what it meant to hate himself.

Swallowing back his self-disgust, he forced himself not to look away again as he demanded her obedience, refusing to be a coward in the face of his own vile transgression. He had willingly done this despicable thing, so now he would see it through to get the answers he needed. "Tell me, do you honestly love me, Pansy?"

"Yes," she dully replied.

"Enough to marry me right here and now, if I asked?" he wondered.

There was no hesitation from her. "Yes."

His chest constricted, but he forced himself to go on. In for a knut, in for a galleon, right? "Tell me, did you trick me into falling in love with you so you could use me to break your marriage contract tonight?"

"No," she indifferently, insensibly responded.

To his surprise, tears flooded his vision and heedlessly dripped onto her cheeks as they fell from his eyes, and his voice became hoarse with pain. How could he have been so wrong about her? He hadn't really trusted her at all - and after all of the boasting to the contrary earlier. "When did it occur to you to ask me to get you pregnant?"

Pansy blinked, but the act did nothing to bring the light of self-awareness back into that zombified gaze; she remained too passively doll-like. "Ten minutes ago, when you said: 'If you'd be mine, I'd work hard to put the world at your feet.' It made me realize that you wanted a life with me. It also made me realize that I wanted that with you, too. But the only way to have that life is to break the marriage contract that currently binds me. You have no money, and asking you to run away was wrong – you have family and friends and a life here. The only choice remaining to us is pregnancy."

"Shit, _shit!_" he began hyperventilating. He'd said he would never hurt her! He'd promised to be good to her, not to abuse her, and yet here he was, forcing her like a puppet on a string to perform for him! Dropping his forehead to her breast with great remorse, he cried harder than he ever had in the whole of his life. "Baby, I'm sorry. I'm _so _sorry. Come back to me. I release you."

His witch took a very deep breath and tremulously let it out, shaking under his touch. He could perceive the return of her personal control in the way her limbs timidly moved to surround him once more, and in her fingers which ghosted through his hair with uneasy affection. "Do you believe me now?" she murmured around a hitching breath.

He felt dirtied inside and out, unworthy to touch her, as if he'd just committed the darkest of acts upon her. What he had just done - it was as bad as an Unforgivable in his opinion. And yet, he desired her more than anything right then. Selfishly, his mouth lathed its way up her throat to her jaw, over her lips. "Yes. God, I'm _so_ sorry," he whispered again around his tears. His mouth captured hers in a desperate kiss, even as he began hastily removing his clothing once more. "I love you, baby… I-I _need_ you. I need to be _in _you. I'm sorry. So _fucking_ sorry!"

Ripping his slacks down his legs, he moved a hand between her thighs, giving her loving attention, working her back into a state of arousal. When she was ready, he entered her again and her enthusiastic, voluptuous body eagerly welcomed his invasion, cradling him as he thrust balls-deep, took her with long, thick strokes that withdrew all the way, only to sink back into her in a pressurized rhythm that had them both moaning and loudly gasping. It was Heaven being with her like this. It calmed the Hell that rioted within his conscience. "Tell me you forgive me," he begged as he worshipped her with overly-indulgent caresses of his lips and hands, re-consecrating his love for her with impassioned surging of his hips. "Tell me I haven't ruined us."

Lifting her shoulders off the bed to touch her forehead to his, Pansy ardently kissed him. "I love you, Ron. I forgive you. No, you haven't spoiled or broken us. I'm afraid though that… that _I_ have. Do you forgive _me_ for not telling you the truth sooner?"

He nodded, his breath exploding across her cheek in deep pants. "Baby, I forgive you, and I love you, and… _hell_, I'm gonna come again. Are you close?"

"Yes, and I'm still under the CD&C, so you don't have to worry," she tried to reassure him. "I won't trick you, I promise."

They kissed, and Ron could feel the gathering tension within her womb tightening the vice-like grip around his cock, dragging him deeper into her channel. When they came together seconds later, they captured each other's cries and Ron felt an immense satisfaction with the thought of filling her again with his seed. "I love you," he breathed into her mouth, tenderly kissing her for all he was worth. "I want you for always, baby."

She nuzzled his cheek. "I love you, Ron, but… we need to talk about what to do. We need to make a decision."

He held her close. "I'm not giving you to that Durmstrang wanker. You're _mine_." Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, he knew what that meant. "You're sure that if we do this – if you get pregnant - it'll break the contract?"

Pansy nodded. "My parents sent me a copy that same night. I read it back and forth. It was the same one they tried to negotiate for Draco and me, only this one had already been signed, sealed and notarized by the General Registry Office as a done-deal. The only way to nullify it is if I die or disappear so they never find me again, or I buy the contract out for 10,000 galleons, or I prove myself unable to bear my fiancé a child right away by already haven gotten pregnant with a baby from another man, thus disgracing myself. It's all very medieval."

"I don't know much about these kinds of things, aside from Fred and George's experiences quitting school early to start their own company, but you're legally an adult at seventeen, at least, according to the Ministry, yeah? So, your parents shouldn't have been able to sign a contract on your behalf," he argued, but she shook her head.

"As long as a witch or wizard is still in school and financially beholden to their parents, they aren't considered adults by the courts," she explained. "I don't have a sickle to my name, and won't come into any inheritance until my parents die - and even then, my older brother, James, gets the lion's share as the only male heir." Brushing at her eyes, she fought back another round of tears. "My choices are limited."

Ron swallowed and made the impulsive leap of faith. "Okay, then, we'll do it."

Her breath hitched. "You're sure?"

Looking down into the face of the woman he loved, Ron nodded, absolutely no regrets with the decision. "As long as you are."

There was a knock at their door, interrupting their talk. Bloody hell, the game! He hadn't even heard the chimes!

"One sec," he shouted over his shoulder. He turned back to Pansy, gently kissing her. "Hold that thought and cover up, baby. I'll be right back." Pulling out of her body with _serious_ regret, he conjured a towel to wrap about his hips, tucking the end in tight. Before he answered the door, he made sure his witch was covered up under the blankets, and then opened it a crack to look out.

"Uh, you're forfeiting, I'm guessing?" Harry asked, grinning.

Ron shrugged. He turned to his partner. "Pans, we forfeiting?"

Lying across the bed length-wise on her side, her head supported on her elbow as if she were the Queen of Sheba herself, the white cotton sheet wrapped about her like a toga, she lazily smirked. "_I'm_ not. If you want to, go ahead."

He chuckled, understanding what she was up to. "I suppose I'll forfeit then, so that Slytherin and Gryffindor will tie. Sound all right with you, love?"

Falling onto her back, she gave him a naughty smile. "Your decision, baby. Just hurry up and come back to bed. Oh, and get my wand while you're at it."

Shaking his head at the demanding wench he'd hooked up with, Ron turned back to his best friend. "You heard, yeah?"

Harry sighed with regret. "There goes our lead." Gryffindor's Captain silently _Accio'd_ both his teammate's and Pansy's wands across the room to his hand, and passed them off to Ron. "Have fun. Be safe."

He nodded. "You, too, mate!"

With that, he shut and locked the door again, leaning against it for a moment as he took in the unexpected, delightful sight of his woman laying across the bed, the sheet now gone from her body. She'd reacquired the previously-discarded sex jewelry, and was currently working on reapplying it carefully around each nipple, then her clit, making cute, kittenish noises as she hunted for and found the exact pressure she wanted in each sensitive, erogenous zone. Done, she lay back and gently began tugging the chains, experimenting, fully aware that he was watching her.

Godric's bones, she was sexy! He was one lucky bastard!

Twirling their wands with both hands, a brilliant idea occurred to him at that moment. He let the towel drop as he made his way back around the bed to face her, his cock renewing its interest at the sight of her wantonly laying open for him, his come seeping from between her legs, her arousal being reinitiated by a clever tug here or there from her pretty hands with their nicely painted nails.

"Like what you see?" she wickedly asked in a low, husky voice, watching him openly ogle her.

Ron grinned like he'd just eaten the proverbial canary. "It's not exactly a chain mail bikini, but it'll do." He grinned, held up both wands, and with a flick and a low murmured spell, set them both to vibrating. The noise immediately caught Pansy's attention, and her smile positively beamed in response. "A girl's best friend, though, yeah?" he recalled.

"Most _definitely_," she sultrily crooked a finger at him, "A guy's, too, if he wants."

Over the next half an hour, Pansy guided the wands - and his hands - exactly where she wanted them to be, teaching him how to use them in combinations to pleasure her first, then him. In the end, Ron had to admit that magically-pulsating wood was a much better sex toy than either chain jewelry or clothing.

Of course, by mutual consent, they didn't cast the Contraceptive Charm again that night.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Aedel Ruaidh Rí = "Aedel" (pronounced "AAA-dill") is Old English for "Noble" (masculine form); "Ruaidh" (pronounced "ROO-eee") is Gaelic for "Red-Haired"; "Rí" (pronounced "REEE") = is Gaelic for "King."**

**Candiss Aedelind = 'Candace' (pronounced "CAN-diss") and all variations thereof (in this case, the 'ss' at the end seemed the neatest spelling to me for Pansy, as it looks snake-like) is the Old English version of "Kandaka" (pronounced "CAN-da-kaaa"), which is the ancient heriditary title for Queens in Ethiopia; "Aedelind" (pronounced "AAA-dill-ind") is Old English for "Noble" (feminine form). **

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Hungry" by Ben Lee. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**It's strange, it's mad,**_  
_**to want someone so bad.**_  
_**And can't you tell?**_  
_**Feel it in every cell.**_

_**Our eyes, they meet…**_  
_**I won't accept defeat.**_  
_**I feel brand new.**_  
_**Can't keep my hands off you!**_

_**And we get so hungry…**_  
_**we eat each other alive.**_  
_**We get so hungry…**_  
_**only the strong survive.**_  
_**We get so hungry…**_  
_**cannot get you off of my mind.**_

_**If hearts could speak,**_  
_**some things I can't repeat.**_  
_**'Cause you were sent**_  
_**to steal my innocence.**_

_**It's all so much…**_  
_**Your love, your words, your touch.**_  
_**Your glare, your sin,**_  
_**makes me believe again.**_

_**And we get so hungry…**_  
_**we eat each other alive.**_  
_**We get so hungry…**_  
_**only the strong survive.**_  
_**We get so hungry…**_  
_**cannot get you off of my mind.**_

_**We get so hungry.**_  
_**Hungry. **_  
_**Yeah.**_

_**We sleep, we dream,**_  
_**discuss the things we've seen.**_  
_**We take, we give…**_  
_**This is the way we live!**_

_**And we get so hungry…**_  
_**we eat each other alive.**_  
_**We get so hungry…**_  
_**only the strong survive.**_  
_**We get so hungry…**_  
_**cannot get you off of my mind.**_

_**We get so hungry.**_  
_**Hungry.**_  
_**Yeah.**_

_**We get so hungry (so hungry).**_  
_**We get so hungry (so hungry, yeah).**_  
_**We get so hungry (so hungry, yeah).**_  
_**We get so hungry (so hungry).**_


	35. Chapter 6E: Draco & Hermione

_**CONTEST WINNERS THIS CHAPTER: **We've got a few people whose song recommendations were used for this chapter! In order, they were... Well, honestly, I chose the "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" songs for the waltzing about, as well as "La Bomba" for the Salsa fun. U__ser __**CareyLan **__recommended the song, __**"**_**Nobody Wants To Be Lonely**_**" by Ricky Martin**__. _U_ser __**MissGumiho **__recommended the song, **"****Insatiable****"**** by Darren Hayes **(actually, she recommended it for Theodore-Daphne, but I felt it better suited Draco, as he's rather obsessed with Hermione). U__ser __**El-El-El **__recommended the song, __**"**_**May I?**_**" by Trading Yesterday**__. And u__sers __**Miss Louis Cordice Zabini & emilyneal & The Virgin Butterfly **all __recommended the song, __**"**_**Iris**_**" by The Goo Goo Dolls**__. _So, this chapter is dedicated to _**CareyLan, MissGumiho, El-El-El, **__**Miss Louis Cordice Zabini, emilyneal, **__and_**__**** The Virgin Butterfly **_- congratulations to all! Lyrics for these songs appear within the text of the story and at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find these songs somehow and give them a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! **

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – You are a paragon of beta wonderfulness. Without you, my life would be boring... and _filled_ with typos. THANK YOU.

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter, folks?**

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX (#5): Draco & Hermione**

The feel of her arse under his hand as he paddled her one good was not just immensely satisfying, but also incredibly arousing. Fuck, but he hoped he'd get the chance to spank her soundly tonight. Seeing her bum blush red for him, his handprint on the golden globes of flesh… and then he'd lick that quim of hers to get her off…

"Earth to Malfoy, come in," his partner waved her hand before his face.

He blinked, focusing on the here and now, looking forward to making his fantasy a reality at some point tonight. "Sorry, I was too busy dreaming about my card," he grinned naughtily at her and held it out for her to read.

_**DEED: Your partner must dance with you – however you want.**_

Hermione unconcernedly shrugged. "Sounds like fun," she smiled, naïvely unaware of just how far he intended on taking this seemingly innocuous card.

Draco stepped up into her, his body mere inches from her warmth. "Oh, it will be."

In a sly move, he captured her hand – the one holding her card – and brought it to his mouth for a kiss, flipping the card over for him to read at the same time.

_**DEED: Your partner has to wank you off with their hand.**_

He couldn't have planned this round better himself.

With a shark-like grin, he pulled her into his embrace, and with a thought, the room changed around them, colors swirling, patterns rearranging themselves appropriately to the vision in his head. Taking both of their cards in hand, he threw them over his left shoulder and gripped her about the waist, holding her hand in the proper dance position as the room settled and the music instantly began.

A short, very familiar waltz played all about them, and he led them with unerring confidence into the dance that he'd waited three years to have with his witch.

"I thought to never hear this song again," she admitted, beaming in amusement, keeping perfect pace with him. Clearly, she remembered the steps to this dance; McGonagall and Snape _had_ forced it down their throats back in Fourth Year in preparation for the Yule Ball's opening number, after all.

"I wanted to dance like this with you then," he admitted unabashedly, whirling her about with effortless grace. "You were the jewel in the room. Every male wanted you."

Her cheeks bloomed with heat and she focused on his throat instead of his face, clearly shying from the praise. "You exaggerate. Beauxbatons' champion, Fleur, was the prize of the Ball."

Draco decisively shook his head and as he picked her up into the air in a well-choreographed spin, he leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips quickly. "I went to sleep dreaming of _you_ that night, Granger," he confessed, putting her back on her toes.

Her blush became even more pronounced. Clearing her throat, she glanced around as if to distract her thoughts. "Um… where are we exactly?"

"A copy of my family's manor," he replied nonchalantly. "The White Ballroom."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "It's huge. But it doesn't look the right color to me to be named as such."

Tilting his chin quickly towards the smooth, white-painted ceiling, the length of which was disturbed only by two golden, Regency Era-styled chandeliers, he grinned at her as her expression changed and her mouth made a cutely rounded "o" in enlightened understanding.

"Right, the _White_ Ballroom… for the ceiling. How obvious," she dryly commented. "Forget the fact the predominant colors in here are mauve and gold, with a touch of green and cream in the filigree. So silly of me."

He should have been offended, but for some reason, the _way_ she snarked at his family's estate made him laugh out loud. Granger never failed to amuse him with the charm of her provincial upbringing. She had a way about her that cut to the heart of the bullshite, and he respected that about her more than any other thing, for it meant she was a woman who preferred honesty.

That wasn't to say she didn't engage in artifice on occasion. He'd watched her enough over the years to know that deep down inside, Hermione Granger had the potential to become very Slytherin, should she allow herself to meander down such a path. However, he also understood that she would only ever do so under the auspices of the most honorable of intentions.

"Do you like this room?" he asked, trying to slyly determine her thoughts on the matter for future reference. "Or is it too pretentious for your tastes?"

His witch glanced around as he continued to waltz her about, the song changing to a pretty orchestrated piece with a moving, softer melody – full, lush strings and gentle flutes were accompanied by harp and bell and light cymbal to create a mysterious, romantic theme that was decidedly less structured for dancing. Draco slowed them down dramatically, allowing the dance to take them as it may, unconcerned for proper steps now; Hermione hardly seemed to notice, letting him lead.

"It's rather beautiful, I will admit. I know places like this exist, but it feels like a location right out of Cinderella's night at the ball," she admitted.

He smiled, lifting her gently and twirling her around twice before putting her back on her feet and continuing with lively enjoyment. "Fitting for Gryffindor's Princess to grace, you're saying?" he teased. "Well, sorry, but glass slippers aren't on your Christmas list this year from me. I was thinking more along the lines of a new broom, since you seemed to have… misplaced… yours."

She stuck her tongue out at him and made a face, smacking him on the arm carelessly. "Har, har. Everyone knows I refuse to get on a broom ever again if I can help it."

"Is that so?" he asked with a wicked smirk curving his cheek. "Care to make a wager on that?"

Granger's head shook adamantly. "Absolutely not. No bet. No broom riding. Ever." Draco opened his mouth to make the chicken noise at her again, but her finger pointing him dead in the face stopped him flat. "And if you dare '_bok-bok-bok_' me again, Malfoy, I'll hex your naughty bits."

Unable to stop the grin that stretched wide across his face, he laughed. "All right, you win. No broom talk… for now. But tell me something important: can you Salsa?"

Granger's eyes widened. "No. Can you?"

The music changed to the fast Caribbean-Latin beat of "_La Bomba_".

"Yes. Want to learn?"

She laughed and shrugged in capitulation. "Sure. What do I have to do?"

He looked down at where her feet had matched his unconsciously in pace as the music had quickened. "You're doing quite well already, but lean forward on your feet, keeping your back straight," he instructed. "Just mimic my feet." He showed her the basic 'quick, quick, slow' structure of the steps, and to his amazement, she adapted easily, learning it in only a few tries. Then again, this was Granger, and she tended to get everything perfect if she applied herself to the task, as she was just then. "Excellent. Try to relax a bit, though. Feel the beat in your hips and in your shoulders. This type of dancing was made to show off the sexiness of a woman's curves. You're too British stiff to pull it off right now. This is Latin heat, baby," he grinned, waggling his eyebrows to get her to loosen up.

Laughing at his ridiculousness with a roll of her eyes, she attempted to relax, and eventually fell into the beat with him, letting her inhibitions slide a bit – enough for her to laugh at herself, at any rate. "This is fun!" she admitted.

"Ready to try something really daring?" he asked in a challenging tone, knowing how she'd rise to it immediately. True to form, she nodded with an arrogant tilt of her chin.

"Bring it," she offered once more, and in his pants, Draco felt his dick harden.

Oh, he was _so _going to fuck her tonight…

He let his most lascivious smirk crawl up his cheek with serious heat. "Close your eyes for a minute," he bid. It was a test of her trust in him. He didn't actually think she'd do it, but to his amazement, she did as he asked, continuing to let him move her in time to the music. He held them in place as, with another thought, he changed the ballroom into a darkened, sultry dance floor where songs like the one playing routinely found their home. "Open your eyes now."

She did, and glanced around in surprise. "Much better ambiance for this sort of dancing," she praised, then gave him a heated look, those whiskey-colored eyes of hers threatening to drown him in her rising lust. "Now, what was this 'daring thing' you wanted me to try… Draco?"

Bloody, _bloody_ hell, he wanted her right then and there! It took seriously concerted discipline to keep focused on the idea of winning her affection, not simply her sexual desire. He wanted something more permanent between them understood before the game ended, or he feared she'd chalk this one up to a good time had by all and move on. That meant he was going to have to make every round count towards the ultimate objective of winning her love.

It had always been his plan to move towards that goal a bit at a time during this game, igniting her need with very precisely rehearsed, cleverly-chosen actions and words until she couldn't deny that he was her perfect match in every way. So far, she'd been able to upset that plan terrifically; he'd practically confessed his feelings for her, and he'd let her see sides of him he hadn't planned in the interim (although he wasn't complaining all that much - especially about that little role-play thing they'd done a couple of rounds ago - as he'd learned things about her he'd never have guessed).

Of course, her card this round was going to send them dangerously into territory that just might tip the scales. He'd have to be firm about not taking his clothes off, too…

"You're going to learn how to do a turn," he informed her, focusing back on the safe topic. "You already know from the waltz how to do a spin. Do one for me now, but keep the rhythm going. Don't slow down," he led her on, and caught her on the return smoothly, resuming their 'quick, quick, slow' step pattern. "Excellent. Now, next time when you spin for me, step to my right, holding onto my hand and walk quickly along the back of me until you come around to my left, then turn and resume the starting position."

They tried it, and after three small mistakes, she caught on, and after two more tries, she had it down. "You're really very good at this," he admitted.

"I have a good teacher," she complimented.

He couldn't resist. "I can teach you _so much more_… Hermione." The innuendo was blatant and unashamed.

Her answer was enigmatically frustrating, however: she simply tweaked an eyebrow at him and smiled as if humoring him.

Thank Merlin he planned to combine their cards, for it gave them more time to continue their current pleasant entertainment. Specifically, it gave him more time to _use_ the dancing as an excuse to seduce Granger's senses. Since he was already into about fifteen minutes of his own time, he was left with a good thirty-five minutes to make her eat that smile.

Which meant it was time to slow things down significantly.

As the last notes of the fun music faded, in its place was a new song from the same artist that he felt was a perfect mood setter. The first notes of the acoustic flamenco guitar met a slower, dusted drum and the tambourine, and Draco pulled her into his arms, the side of his cheek sliding against hers…

"Listen," he breathed hotly into her ear.

_**There you are in a darkened room,  
And you're all alone,  
Looking out the window…  
Your heart is cold and lost the will to love,  
Like a broken arrow.**_

_**Here I stand in the shadows…  
Come to me, come to me.  
Can't you see that…**_

_**Nobody wants to be lonely.  
Nobody wants to cry.  
My body's longing to hold you,  
So bad it hurts inside!  
Time is precious and it's slipping away,  
And I've been waiting for you all of my life.  
Nobody wants to be lonely, so why…?  
Why don't you let me love you?**_

With slight pressure on the sway of her spine, he pulled her pelvis into his, their thighs cradling each other's as they swayed back and forth. He pulled their joined hands in, resting her right fingers over his heart so she could feel it beating, and pressed his nose into her hairline, inhaling deeply, exhaling with a sigh of pleasure at her rose-cinnamon-cardamom scent.

_**Can you hear my voice?  
Do you hear my song?  
It's a serenade so your heart can find me.  
And suddenly you're flying down the stairs…  
Into my arms, baby!  
Before I start going crazy,  
Run to me, run to me…  
'Cause I'm dying.**_

"I love the way you smell," he whispered into her ear during the small lull between refrain and chorus.

She buried her nose into his collar. "You, too," she admitted, rubbing their cheeks together.

_**Nobody wants to be lonely.**_  
_**Nobody wants to cry.**_  
_**My body's longing to hold you,**_  
_**So bad it hurts inside!**_  
_**Time is precious and it's slipping away,**_  
_**And I've been waiting for you all of my life.**_  
_**Nobody wants to be lonely, so why…?**_  
_**Why don't you let me love you?**_

"Do you like this? Dancing with me?" he asked.

Hermione nodded, her hand on his shoulder curving up and around his neck to find a home right at the back of his hairline, where he _loved_ to be touched. "Very much so."

**_I want to feel you need me  
Just like the air you're breathing.  
I need you here in my life…  
Don't walk away, don't walk away!  
Don't walk away, don't walk away!  
No, no, no, no! _**

**_Nobody wants to be lonely.  
Nobody wants to cry. _**

He kissed her temple. "Good."

At least now he knew they would do this again after tonight... _if_ he could convince her to date him.

**_Nobody wants to be lonely._**  
**_Nobody wants to cry._**  
**_My body's longing to hold you,_**  
**_So bad it hurts inside!_**  
**_Time is precious and it's slipping away,_**  
**_And I've been waiting for you all of my life._**  
**_Nobody wants to be lonely, so why…?_**  
**_Why don't you let me love you?_**

He changed the music over to another of his favorites in another smooth transitional thought. A trance-like, slow R&B beat harmonized with an acoustic flamenco guitar, and this time, he moved the way he wanted to make love to her, his hands pressed on her hips, grinding against her sultrily.

_**When moonlight crawls along the street, **_  
_**Chasing away the summer heat, **_  
_**Footsteps outside, somewhere below…**_  
_**The world revolves...**_  
_**I let it go.**_

He pressed soft kisses all along the shell of her right ear, flicking the small gold earring – a heart with a butterfly – in passing as his lips traveled lower.

_**We build our church above this street. **_  
_**We practice love between these sheets. **_  
_**The candy sweetness scent of you - **_  
_**It bathes my skin.**_  
_**I'm stained in you.**_

He ran his mouth over her pulse, letting his right hand skim around her back and up over her spine to tangle in her soft curls, pulling back gently to open her up for him…

_**And all I have to do is hold you...  
There's a racing within my heart,  
And I am barely touching you.**_

Suckling upon her throat, he wrapped her in his embrace, letting his other relearn the curvature of her hind. He let his fingers travel over the outline of her panties, and then through the center.

In his arms, Hermione shivered. The hand stationary over his heart moved then to join its twin at the back of his hair, and with a low, sexy moan, she pulled him closer.

_**Turn the lights down low.  
Take it off,  
Let me show  
My love for you…  
Insatiable. **_

He unbuttoned the collar of her dress, and pulled it around, following the path with roaming fingers over flesh that was burning up. With an insistent tug, he pulled it down, baring her breasts once more. The nipples were hard peaks against his chest, and Granger's shaking became more pronounced.

_**Turn me on,  
Never stop.  
Wanna taste every drop.  
My love for you…  
Insatiable.**_

Sliding his fingers around her waist, he unzipped her dress, and when he reached the end, he pushed the fabric off entirely, letting it fall with gravity to her feet, where it pooled in a colorful rainbow around her racy gold heels.

Lifting her up into his arms, he moved them with distinct purpose towards a padded leather chair he conjured with a simple thought.

_**The moonlight plays upon your skin.  
A kiss that lingers takes me in.  
I fall asleep inside of you.  
There are no words,  
There's only truth. **_

Carefully, he set her down on her feet, letting his mouth travel up over her jaw until their lips met. The kiss was ravenously hungry on both sides. Tongues clashed, twined, feasted with raw need.

_**Breathe in, Breathe out  
There is no sound.  
We move together up and down.  
We levitate, our bodies soar…  
Our feet don't even touch the floor.**_

As her nails grazed through his hair, his fingers roamed to the sides of her knickers. Slowly, he began pulling at the two ribbon ties that held the garment together – one at each hip - loosening them…

_**But nobody knows you like I do…  
'Cause the world, they doesn't understand  
That I grow stronger in your hands. **_

Draco pulled the knots away and the last barrier of clothing Hermione possessed fell to the ground, leaving her completely exposed to him finally.

She whimpered in partial fear as he smoothed his fingers over her naked waist and down the outside of her trembling thighs.

"Relax," he whispered as he pulled out of the kiss, trying to soothe her. "Don't be afraid of me. I won't hurt you."

_**Turn the lights down low.  
Take it off,  
Let me show  
My love for you…  
Insatiable. **_

Flowing down into the chair, he pulled her over him, giving her the dominant position, running his hands over her bare skin in soft, gentle caresses.

_**Turn me on, **_  
_**Never stop. **_  
_**Wanna taste every drop. **_  
_**My love for you… **_  
_**Insatiable. **_

"I'm not afraid _of_ you," she admitted boldly, touching his lips with the barest brush of fingertips. "I'm afraid of how I'm… beginning to feel… _for_ you."

_**Turn the lights down low.  
Take it off,  
Let me show  
My love for you…  
Insatiable. **_

His heart's pounding was powerful in his chest, threatening to tear through its protective covering. He swallowed twice before he found his voice again.

"Don't over-think this. Just go with it."

_**Turn me on,  
Never stop.  
Wanna taste every drop.  
My love for you…  
Insatiable. **_

With slow, deliberate movement, he trailed the hand on her face down her throat, over her shoulder, to cup her left breast. Rolling the beautiful mound of flesh in his palm, he found her nipple with his finger and thumb and rubbed, gently pinching it. Hermione squirmed in his lap, unconsciously thrusting her chest at him as her body reacted to the pleasure he was giving her.

_**We never sleep, **_  
_**We're always holding hands, **_  
_**Kissing for hours, **_  
_**Talking, making plans. **_  
_**I feel like a better man **_  
_**Just being in the same room. **_

"Feel it, my beautiful witch," he coaxed in a sinfully low tone – one he reserved for moments like this alone. "Let me give you everything you'll ever need."

_**We never sleep,  
There's just so much to do…  
Too much to say.  
Can't close my eyes when I'm with you.  
Insatiable - the way I'm loving you. **_

Leaning forward, he took her nipple into his mouth, cherishing it with his lips and tongue. She still tasted lightly of honey dust - sweet mixed with salt. It was utterly intoxicating to his starved sex drive.

_**Turn the lights down low.  
Take it off,  
Let me show  
My love for you…  
Insatiable. **_

Hermione's hands gripped his shoulders for anchor. Her body still quaked uncontrollably, and the flesh prickled on her arms as his hand drifted towards the part of her he had yet to know and learn…

_**Turn me on,  
Never stop.  
Wanna taste every drop.  
My love for you…  
Insatiable.**_

As slowly as he had removed the ribbons, he made his way down her lower abdomen, keeping his eyes locked on hers as his fingertips caressed through her neatly-trimmed, crisp curls. Opening his legs wider had the dual effect of opening her up to him, and so it was his index finger that first encountered her clitoris as it slid through her soft, warm slit.

Hermione's grip on his upper arms tightened and her breath hitched at the same time as his did.

_**Turn the lights down low.  
Take it off,  
Let me show  
My love for you…  
Insatiable. **_

With infinite care, he parted her folds and glided very lightly over the sensitive skin, finding it already quite damp.

That musky aroma that accompanied most women's arousal was faint in the air between them; Hermione smelled clean, with a light, compelling fragrance that worked like a lust drug through his system. His cock tightened to bursting with need, stirred by the scent.

_**Turn me on,  
Never stop.  
Wanna taste every drop.  
My love for you…  
Insatiable, baby.**_

Flicking slowly up and down, Draco learned the feel of her, and then finally, he shifted his eyes away from hers, and got his first good look of her body _au natural_.

The hair on her pubis was as dark as that on her head, but there was only a_ very _small amount; she kept it well-groomed. Her lower lips were full, the outer skin golden and the inner a dark rosy pink. Her clit was perfect – a small button of skin that was already awakened and begging for tantalizing stroking. Leaning back further in the chair and tilting her hips slightly, keeping hold of her waist for balance, he got his first glance at her opening – it was small, unsullied by frequent use, almost virginal… and glistening with her need.

_**When I look in your eyes…  
Insatiable.  
The way I'm loving you…**_

As they both watched, entranced, he gathered that fluid on the tips of two fingers and ran it up and down, coating her thoroughly to the chorus of Hermione's low moans and gasps. When he penetrated her opening with those same two fingers, entering that very tight passage gently, she actually mewled and dug her fingernails into his shoulders.

_**Oh, what can I do?  
Insatiable…  
**_

Wrapping his tongue around her nipple again, drawing it into his mouth at the same time as slowly, rhythmically thrusting his hand into her lush, wet canal had his stomach clenching with desperate want. Sweat broke out above his lip line as the ache in his groin became a throbbing pulse.

_**Insatiable…**_

Gods, it was agony hearing her lusty cries and feeling her velvety inner muscles clench around his digits as he sunk them as deep as they could go.

_**All for you.**_

In and out, increasing with intensity and speed, very soon her hips began meeting his plunging attentions, swinging into him with mounting need. "That's it, beautiful," he coaxed as he blew cool air on her breast, and then sucked on it hard. "Don't be afraid. Let go."

_**Insatiable.**_

Swiping his thumb over her clit, he stimulated as many erogenous zones as he could reach, using his hands and mouth simultaneously. He gave his witch all of his skill, all of his patience, building her up and bringing her to the edge, then backing off, braving her disappointed whimpering, only to work her over again. His fingers were drenched as they lunged harder, faster on this last pass.

Pulling his mouth from its delicious interest, he reached up to capture her kiss again, and she gave it to him with an adorably feral growl, the sound of which caused fire to burn through his center. The hand he'd used to brace her moved up and around possessively into her hair and he pulled, baring her throat to him once more. "I'm going to fuck you so good when it's time, my princess," he promised, biting teasingly down on her pounding pulse. "I'm going to sink _deep_ into you and _never_ let go." He tugged a bit harder on her hair, even as his lips reverently lathed her hot skin. "Would you like that: me worshipping every inch of your body with every inch of mine, over and over again?"

Hermione's lips were pursed tightly together as she nodded vigorously. "I don't want to wait," she begged, her body straining, reaching. "Take me to bed _now_."

Shit, he'd wanted to hear those words forever, and in _that _tone of voice too – frustrated with need, a little higher-pitched in desperation…

His heart slamming under his ribs, he increased the pace of his hand's thrusts. "Not yet, love. There's still too much I want to do to you." He stroked her tiny pearl with insistence, determined to tumble her wildly into her rapture. Her whole body quivered on the edge, tightened around him, shaking as she soared towards the wild brink of insanity. "Come for me, beautiful. Come now."

"Oh God, _oh God_… oh… _oh_, _DRACO!_" she screamed as she flew into the clouds. Throwing her head back, her spine arched, and her face transformed into a mask of relieved pleasure as the first undulations of her release began. He stilled his fingers, feeling every ripple of her internal muscles, groaning at the pressure as she clamped down and at the feeling of the skin of his bared biceps being pierced by her sharp fingernails at the same time. Her shuddering went on and on, and she rocked on him back and forth, mewling again.

He'd known it would be like this with her. Hot, wild, mutually satisfying…

His insides felt a melting, critical pressure unlike any he'd ever felt before. Pressing his forehead to hers as she came down from her high, holding her still with a hand on the nape of her neck, he looked into those dark cinnamon eyes, smelled her spicy-rose skin and was finally able to admit the truth to himself: he was so in love with Hermione Granger that it _physically hurt_ to be this close and unable to tell her.

Merlin knew, he wanted to, though. The words were _right there_ on the tip of his tongue, aching for freedom, yet as he opened his mouth to speak them, his Slytherin reserve kicked in at the last second and held him back. If he admitted the truth aloud, there would be no taking it back, and at this critical juncture, it just might scare her away. But the worst of it was that it would make him vulnerable in a way he wouldn't be able to endure, because he knew she didn't yet love him back.

Withdrawing his hand from between her legs gradually, so as not to cause hurt, he trailed sticky, saturated fingers over her belly and up, until he captured her breast. Rubbing her fluids all over her skin, he leaned forward again and took that same nipple back into his mouth, tasting her, lapping at his own fingers to claim every ounce of her essence. It was a delicious sweet-salt that tantalized his taste buds.

In an unexpected move, her arms came around his neck and she pulled her face into his shoulder to hide it. Her embarrassment and anxiety rolled off of her in waves. Draco held on, wondering if he should say something, or if he should just let things stand as they had between them, and give her time to process it all in silence. Three years of intense observation gave him the insight he'd needed, and he opted for the latter course of action, knowing the way her mind worked. She'd want time to sort her thoughts. So, instead, he tried to calm and ease her in the only way he knew: he pressed leisurely kisses to her flesh everywhere he could reach, continuing to touch her with gentle affection, hugging her back, smoothing his hands over her cooling skin.

After long minutes, she stirred, taking a deep breath. "That was… wonderful," she shyly offered. "Thank you."

Well, that wasn't what he'd expected, but then, what could a person say given the circumstances? "My pleasure… truly," he tried for a teasing tone to lighten the mood, and it was then that he realized that the music had ended some time before, and he hadn't thought to replace it. He'd rectify that oversight in a moment. "You should know that I want to dance with you one more time before the chimes."

Granger made an inarticulate 'harrumph' over that and slumped heavily against him. "Forget it. No Salsa for me. I'm too tired and squishy for that," she grumped adorably.

Draco knew in an instant what she was about. "You're just a little mad because I wouldn't shag you," he bantered, tickling her ruthlessly at the same time. Despite her obvious fatigue (it _had _been a rather shattering orgasm - at least it looked so from the outside), she laughed and finally gave in to his demands with an indignant, "Fine, I'll dance with you!"

Wrapping his arms about her waist, he stood them up and held on as he moved them a few paces from the chair and began swaying back and forth slowly. The music began half a beat later with a guitar playing a repeating string of chords, trailed by a piano four beats later…

"Um… Malfoy?"

"Yes, my princess?"

"I'm still naked."

"That's absolutely _not_ a problem as far as I'm concerned."

He pressed his lips to her ear and whispered along to the words to the song as they began, letting his hands smooth over the sexy sway of her back and her hind, letting his feelings for her find their freedom in the way he held her close to his heart.

_**There you stand - open heart, open doors.  
Full of life with a world that's wanting more.  
But I can see when the lights start to fade…  
The day is gone and your smile has gone away.  
**__**Let me raise you up…  
Let me be your love.**_

Hermione began trembling again, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her face buried in his throat.

_**May I hold you  
as you fall to sleep?  
When the world is closing in,  
and you can't breathe,  
may I love you?  
May I be your shield?  
When no one can be found,  
may I lay you down?  
**_

"I have a confession to make: I'm a little frightened of what's happening between us, Draco."

"Me, too. A little."

"You are? But I thought you set this whole thing up?"

"I did, but… no one can be ready for _this_."

_**All I want is to keep you safe from the cold…  
To give you what your heart needs the most.  
Let me raise you up…  
Let me be your love.  
**_

He pressed a kiss to her jaw, nuzzling her.

She answered by melding herself into him fully.

They fit so perfectly together…

_**May I hold you  
as you fall to sleep?  
When the world is closing in,  
and you can't breathe,  
may I love you?  
May I be your shield?  
When no one can be found,  
may I lay you down?  
**_

"Will you think about it, Granger?"

"About… us… you mean?"

He nodded. "I know our past was pretty bad, but I'm different now."

"You'll always be Slytherin at heart, though."

"And you'll always be Gryffindor. I want to try anyway."

"Are you asking for something… serious… after the game?"

He nodded. "Don't answer yet. Just think about it."

_**All that's made me is all worth trading,  
just to have one moment with you.  
So I will let go of all that I know,  
knowing that you're here with me…**__**  
**__**For your love is changing me.**_

"When would you like my answer?"

"When you're ready to give it. I'll wait. Snakes can be infinitely patient while on the hunt."

"So can lions."

He smiled into her neck. "See, not so different after all."

"No… I suppose not."

_**May I hold you  
as you fall to sleep?  
When the world is closing in,  
and you can't breathe,  
may I love you?  
May I be your shield?  
When no one can be found,  
may I lay you down?  
**_

"Draco?"

"Hmmm?"

"Thank you for teaching me how to dance."

"You're welcome."

_**May I?  
May I?  
May I?**_

She leaned back and captured his lips in a sensual, very passionate kiss. As they pulled away, their eyes met, and in that moment, Draco _knew _she was it for him. He was going to win this witch's heart no matter what it took, and then he would make her his in every way conceivable - and the whole world could go fuck itself if it didn't like that plan.

The chimes rang out, and it was with great reluctance that they parted. He helped her redress, assuring the collar and zipper of her dress were redone properly, and then he smoothed the fabric down so it lay correctly. Her hair was easily tamed (thanks to whatever hair product she was using now), but there was nothing he could do to hide the fact that her lips were red and swollen from his kisses, nor could he cover up the side of her neck without his wand and a glamour charm. That was perfectly all right with him, though.

They walked out to the couches hand-in-hand, and before he released her, he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her with tender fervency, uncaring of the stares they were receiving from the others who were already out and waiting.

"I'm thinking about it," she whispered very soft and low as she pulled out of his hold. "I'm _seriously _thinking about it." She slipped away and into her seat quickly.

Inside his chest cavity, Draco's heart skipped about madly with joy.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

_**

* * *

**_

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Order of songs that appeared in this chapter:**

**- "Potter Waltz" from the motion picture "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" (orchestrated by Patrick Doyle; this was the song played where the Champions all opened the Ball with a dance with their partners)**

**- "Harry In Winter" from the motion picture "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" (orchestrated by Patrick Doyle)**

**- "La Bomba" sung by Ricky Martin (not to be confused with****_ "La Bamba" - a Mexican folk song best known for being sung by Ritchie Valens and Los Lobos... different song _****_entirely_)**

**- "Nobody Wants To Be Lonely" sung by Ricky Martin**

**- "Insatiable" sung by Darren Hayes**

**- "May I?" by Trading Yesterday**

**Yes, I am well aware that the "Harry Potter" movie soundtrack wasn't released until 2005, but for obvious reasons, it works here. I am also aware that Ricky Martin's "Nobody Wants To Be Lonely" didn't come out until 1999, and that Darrel Hayes' "Insatiable" didn't debut until 2002, and that Trading Yesterday's "May I?" didn't come out until 2004, but I liked these songs, and readers of this fic chose them, too, and so I am stretching it and saying that these songs were introduced into the wizarding world first before hitting the Muggle scene. I'm taking liberties with creative license, because (let's just be honest here) there weren't that many sexy, great songs in the 90's to work from in any genre. Just go with it, people, please.**

_**Musical selection for this chapter: "Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls. Lyrics are as follows...**_

_**And I'd give up forever to touch you,  
'cause I know that you feel me somehow.  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be,  
and I don't want to go home right now.**_

And all I can taste is this moment...  
And all I can breathe is your life...  
But sooner or later it's over.  
I just don't want to miss you tonight.

And I don't want the world to see me,  
'cause I don't think that they'd understand.  
When everything's made to be broken,  
I just want you to know who I am.

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming,  
or the moment of truth in your lies.  
When everything seems like the movies,  
yeah, you bleed just to know your alive.

And I don't want the world to see me,  
'cause I don't think that they'd understand.  
When everything's made to be broken,  
I just want you to know who I am.

**_And I don't want the world to see me, _  
_'cause I don't think that they'd understand. _  
_When everything's made to be broken, _  
_I just want you to know who I am. _**

_I just want you to know who I am... _  
_I just want you to know who I am... _  
_I just want you to know who I am... _  
_I just want you to know who I am! _


	36. Chapter 6F: Harry & Tracey

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**the original K-EA **__recommended the song, _**"Must Be Doing Something Right" by Bill Currington **_for Harry & Tracey this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Harry's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**the original K-EA **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! **

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – Thank you again for your excellent advice on making this chapter shine! Happy New Year!

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter, folks?**

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX (#6): Harry & Tracey**

"Close your eyes," Harry bid his girlfriend, holding onto her hands to lead her into their private room. Tracey gave him an amused smile, and did as asked without question, trusting him completely. He took that responsibility seriously as he slowly guided her in, shutting the door behind them.

Glancing about and with a thought, he added purple and white hydrangea bunches around the room in random locations. His Aunt Petunia was something of a flower enthusiast for hobby, and for almost every Spring of his childhood, she'd routinely dragged he, Dudley and Uncle Vernon up to the Harrogate Flower Show for the weekend (that is, until Harry's magic started manifesting trouble for them in public, and then he was left at home). At the time, Harry had despised those outings, but now, he was quite thankful for them, as the experience had given him some appreciation for the romance of flowers. Now, that knowledge was coming in quite handy.

Situating himself behind Tracey, wrapping his arms about her waist and pulling her in close, he leaned his mouth over her ear and whispered very softly. "Open for me."

From over her shoulder, watching her lids flutter open and grow wider, and observing true joy light up her eyes and transform her face made Harry's heart pound madly in his chest.

"Oh, Harry," she breathed, her smile unabashedly genuine, bringing home to him again the fact that she really had not been meant for Slytherin House. "I _love_ hydrangeas. We have a bush of them growing in our garden back home that my parents planted for me when I was born. It's why I love the color purple so much." She turned in his arms and wrapped herself about him tight. "Thank you for the flowers."

Tucking hair back behind her ear, he leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. "You're welcome, honey."

Tracey hummed. "I love when you call me that. It makes me feel very special to you."

"You are," he admitted, and captured her lips again and again with soft kisses as he tried to prove to her _just_ how special she had become to him.

As they melted into each other, Harry felt as if the floor had opened up under them, and they were freefalling gently. The closest he'd ever felt to this sensation now was the one time he'd had the pleasure of watching Fawkes lift his head and sing to the dawn, as the sun crested the horizon. He'd been witness to a manifestation of divine beauty then, the same as now, and it forever changed him.

Twining herself sinuously about him, she sighed in a happiness the likes of which he could intimately appreciate.

Merlin, he'd fallen in love with her, hadn't he? And in so short a time… Was it possible? Could a man look at a woman only a handful of times, spend only a few hours in her company, laughing and talking and engaging in some heavy snogging, and then just magically _know_ deep in his guts that she was it for him? Maybe it was rose-colored glasses coupled with wishful optimism, but it sure as hell felt that way right then. He knew he'd never felt quite like it before, either.

Last round, when he'd discovered her secret reason for playing the game, he'd felt his chest constrict almost painfully with the poignancy of the truth: that she was really here for _him_, to give _him _her most precious gift. It honored him, made him feel a little unworthy, and to be perfectly honest, a bit frightened of the charge as well. Now, though, as he held her tightly to him, he knew he definitely wanted her offering – and with a passion that couldn't be denied any longer.

"The cards," Tracey reminded him, pulling her lips away reluctantly.

It took another few seconds for Harry's brain to catch up with her words. "Oh, yeah. Here's mine." He handed her his card from his back pocket, careful in the exchange about possible sharp edges:

_**DEED: Your partner must give you a sensual back and neck massage. Lips and tongue can be used. **_

Tracey looked at him over the edge of the card. "I suppose this will go along well with mine." She read it off to him from memory:

_**DEED: Lick the beverage or food of your choice off your partner's body.**_

Harry couldn't help the Cheshire Cat grin that overtook him. "Well, well. Seems _I'm_ to be pampered this round." Eyeing the large, fluffy pillow pile in the middle of the floor, he ran for it and threw himself in, then leaned back comfortably and sighed, lacing his fingers behind his head and crossing his ankles. "Ah, yes… King for the hour, I am!"

Not having moved from her spot by the door, Tracey simply stared at him with exasperation and placed her hands on her hips. "But… I mean… well, this hardly seems fair! I had to perform for your pleasure last round, too."

He leered lasciviously at her. "Yes, you were a wonderfully naughty love-slave, honey. I wouldn't mind a repeat. In fact, why don't we just get started on that right now, hmmm?" He was teasing her, knowing she'd never go for it, but enjoying the way she bristled at his outrageous comments. Their playfulness last question round – especially her throwing the pillows at him - was really quite enjoyable, because Tracey was finally coming out of her shell, and he rather liked her acting a tad possessive of him.

His girlfriend did not immediately reply. Instead, she assessed him intently for half a minute or so and then, as if she'd read his mind, she did something that absolutely floored him: she took her dress off again, slipping it to the floor with a quick unzip and a shuffling of the straps. Boldly walking over to him, intentionally putting a sway in her hips, she moved to his side. Stopping inches from him, she glanced down at him from head to toe, traveling the length of his body slowly, as if enjoying the view.

"Strip."

Harry nearly lurched upright in astonishment. "E-excuse me?"

Raising one dark gold eyebrow, Tracey did her first decidedly Slytherin thing all game: she smirked at him slowly, wickedly. "I said, strip, Mr. Potter. If I'm to be your love-slave, I'll need access."

It took him another few seconds to realize she was perfectly serious. "Not that I'm complaining much, but who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?" he joked with shameless glee, liking this new, dominant side of his blonde goddess a hell of a lot. In his trousers, he was hard again; her commanding tone alone had done that to him.

With perfectly coordinated balance, she knelt down gracefully beside him, her knees not yet touching the floor, supporting herself on the strength honed in those long, delicious legs of hers. "All of it, Harry. Take it all off for me, just like I did for you last round."

Holy. Shite.

Reaching for the hem of his shirt, he paused as he tugged it up. "All of it? You're sure?" he asked, excitement and nervousness whipping up a frenzy of desire inside his guts.

Hazel eyes gazed into his with heat that made his balls ache. "I'm sure."

Throwing off his shirt, he eagerly kicked his shoes and toed his socks as he reached for his belt. Tracey said nothing, simply watched, dropping her weight finally onto her knees fully. His slacks were done away with quickly, and then he hooked his thumbs in his boxers and looked up at her for any last-minute capitulation.

Her eyes were riveted on the action, and her tongue peeked out to wet her bottom lip.

Oh, man.

Tugging his pants away, he dropped them somewhere to the side and lay back, his dick bobbing a bit, hard and a little wet at the tip, before following the angle of his body.

There was a bit of an awkward pause as she assessed him. "Can I… touch it?" she hesitantly asked.

Heart slamming under his ribs, slowly he raised his cock upwards, using his thumb as a brace. "Touch me all you want, honey."

Pausing as she reached out, she withdrew her hands, and for a moment, he'd thought she'd lost all nerve. However, when she breathed upon her fingers and rubbed them vigorously, he realized she was being considerate and warming them. "Thank you," he smiled. "Not many people think about how cold their hands can be."

Blushing to the roots of her hair, she cleared her throat, and then resumed her intention.

As her fingertips caressed him for the first time, it was as if butterflies were tickling his length with their silken wings. When she finally gripped him, it was gentle, a little hesitant, slowly growing more confident by the second. "Is this… all right?" she asked.

He smiled encouragingly at her. "You can grip me a little tighter," he persuaded, and when she complied, he nodded. "A little tighter. Yes, that's it, Tracey. Now, glide up and down slowly like this." He placed his hand over hers and directed her with a soothing tone, wanting her to enjoy this as much as he was. And gods, was he! It was heaven feeling her soft, warm hands wanking him off, nice and slow as he liked to start. Smoothing her fingers over the tip of him, gathering his pre-come and slathering it along his shaft was bliss. He gasped with pleasure and moaned. "Merlin… honey, that feels wonderful."

Her cheeks were super-heated, her eyes a little glazed with passion. To his surprise, she straddled his legs, moving in closer, supporting herself on her knees and her free hand. "It's… so velvety-hard," she breathed in wonder. "Sticky and warm. Will you… orgasm this way?"

Harry's grin was positively wicked, he could feel it. "Oh, yeah. Do you want me to?"

Tracey mulled it over for a few seconds, and in the hushed room, there was only the sound of their wet flesh moving together. "Yes, I want to watch. I've never seen this before. I want to watch you… come for me - because of me touching you."

Fuck, that was hot.

"Do you want to come, too?" he asked, letting the fingertips of his free hand brush against the front of her knicks. "I can touch you at the same time." Her eyes widened, and her lips parted, and he could see in her face an eagerness to experience another climax. "Take these off for me," he pulled at the band of the pretty purple and black lacey shorts, "and I'll give you what you want, honey."

She licked her lips again. "I'm not sure…"

Reaching up, he cupped her cheek. "We won't have sex until you're ready - I promise. But this… we can do this together and enjoy it, if you want. You've cast the charm, so there's no worry no matter what." He looked into her eyes and felt his heart leap. "Trust me, Tracey."

There was absolutely no hesitation on her part when she nodded. "I do trust you, Harry."

Chest tight, he swallowed back his overwhelming feelings, not wanting to scare her off. "Then take your clothes off for me, honey. I want us naked the first time we do this together." He grinned then, trying to diffuse the tension with a little teasing. "Your King commands it."

It worked. Tracey's smile was bright and she giggled. "Devilish boy." She mock bowed her head. "Yes, my liege," she granted, playing along, then let him go to stand up and strip for him again. From this angle, he could see straight up between her legs.

Bloody hell, her pussy was gorgeous!

"Temptress," he bantered, smoothing his hand up and down her calf. "I'm going to lick you all over once I'm allowed, you know."

Dropping her bra and knicks to the side, she resumed her spot as earlier, only this time, pressing in closer, sitting higher upon his thighs. She was less than an inch from his penis when she gripped him once more.

Too tempting…

Trusting her to set the rhythm of his pleasure, his impending climax abated by the pause, resetting his body, Harry felt no immediate pressure to find release, and so allowed his hands free rein. First stop: those lovely breasts.

She arched into his palms as he cupped them and pushed up, throwing her head back a bit in an innocently erotic pose that made him imagine her doing that while riding his dick at the same time.

"Ooh," she gasped, as he pinched those pretty beige nipples. "You just got... wetter." Her fingers oiled his length with his own weeping essence. "And harder."

He chuckled low. "It's because I was envisioning making love to you just like this."

Her face came forward, her eyelids peeked open and she smiled alluringly at him. "Hearing that…" She took her hand off of him for a minute, and then used those same fingers to part her folds and touch herself. "Just made _me_ wet."

Letting his fingers trail down her bared abdomen, he gripped her hip with one, while the other joined her in touching her most sensitive self. "Did it now?"

Nodding, she hummed as he tickled her clit first, and then dropped down to rim the tiny hole of her entrance. She _was_ wet – lusciously so. Teasing over the spot, he used his knuckles to coerce her into touching her little nub. "You've never pleasured yourself?" he wondered aloud.

Tracey looked him in the eye and shook her head. "It always seemed too… I don't know… weird? Especially hearing how much better it was to be with a boy, from my roommates. And since I didn't want it to be with just any boy… well, I waited."

"Now I know why you didn't answer this question two rounds ago."

He gave her no time to reply, instead piercing her gently with one finger, once more feeling her barrier in place as he inched up as far as he could go without breaking it. His girl hissed in pleasure and moaned.

"Ooooh, Harry," she sighed. He moved in and out nice and slow, feeling the warm, liquid silk of her channel and imagining it was his cock in there. His slowly softening member perked back up immediately.

"Take me back in your hand, honey," he coaxed, and she did as he asked. "Up and down, just like that. Yeah, perfect!"

They brought each other close several times and backed off on purpose, she at his behest, he wanting to prolong the exquisite feelings. A few times, he gathered moisture from his crown and then reinserted his finger inside her, making her so wet that he was easily gliding now.

When they were both close this last time, he pulled his fingers away and gripped her hips, sliding her up his body so that his penis rested between her folds. She let go of him and looked down into his face with a mixture of surprise and consternation. "No sex," he vowed again, reaching for the back of her neck and bringing her down to his lips. "I promised I wouldn't go inside, and I meant it, Tracey. But I _have_ to kiss you. Just rub your clit against me. We'll both come."

Her tension eased out of her as she trusted him once more, and their mouths met with hungry kisses as he taught her how to move her hips just right. They were both so wet that it was easy to move between her lower lips. His engorged crown clipped her little nub just right over several passes, and she gasped, began panting, and took control of her own movement finally after a few more hits.

"That's it, honey," he encouraged, feeling his orgasm building. His hips moved in tandem with hers. "Take from me. That's it. Reach for it."

Her breath exploding across his face as she greedily ate at his mouth, Tracey's moans grew louder with each passing second. "Oh, Merlin… Harry, I'm… I'm so close."

Thrusting his tongue into her mouth and pinching her nipples brought her over in the next breath.

"OH, _GODS!_" she screamed as her climax claimed her. "_HARRY!_"

Her desperate cry for him brought him instantly. "Tracey, I'm coming for you!" He pulled his mouth from hers and directed her to watch as his seed spurted out of him in several explosions, to land all over his stomach and even between her slit, coating her clit as he pulled her up his length to rest the head of his cock right between her lips. "Oh, God… Tracey… Oh, yeah. All for you, honey."

It took several, long seconds for his ejaculation to stop, and then his grip on her hips loosened and he fell back into the thick, heavy pillows, completely sated, his heart racing a mile a minute, his lungs struggling to catch up and provide oxygen as his brain rushed with blood.

By the time he peeled his eyelids back and could think again, Tracey was sitting over him, looking down at the mess they'd created with curiosity, her fingertips smoothing through the milky-clear substance of his come upon his lower abs and pubis. It took Harry three tries to speak. "Did I hurt you? Are you all right, love?"

Tracey's hazel eyes widened and she looked up at him in astonishment. "What?"

Reaching up a tired hand, he smoothed it over her arm. "Are you okay with this? What we did? Was I too rough?"

She blinked a few times before shaking her head. "No, it was… wonderful."

Something in her tone made everything inside him go still with caution. "But?"

"No 'buts,'" she affirmed. "It's just… you said…" Shaking her head again, her smile returned, albeit hesitantly. "I really liked that, Harry. _A lot._ Even if," she lifted a finger covered with his goop, "it was rather messier than I imagined."

Oh, thank God! It was just the first time she'd seen a guy's come and it freaked her a bit. Okay, that he could handle. He was worried that she was going to say something like she'd hated it and never wanted to do it again.

To his surprise, she dipped that same finger into her mouth and sucked his essence off of it, trying it out. He held his breath, waiting for the verdict; if she hated it, there would be no blowjobs in his future, and he'd have to resign himself to that awful fate. To his immense relief, however, she smiled.

"It is a bit salty, but lemony, too," she laughed. "Just like Daphne and Pansy said."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that. "You girls _really _talk about us blokes, then, huh?"

She nodded quite sincerely. "Oh, you should hear some of the things they say. I've quite an education from listening alone."

He grinned. "I'll bet."

Her eyes narrowed quite suddenly, and then she dipped her head, holding her hair back with one hand and licked over his stomach.

"Holy cats!" he swore, not expecting that.

She gave him an innocent, wide-eyed stare then. "Well, the cards _did _say that I could lick the food of my choice off of you anywhere." She lapped at his semen again and looked at him with a mischievous smile. "You don't mind, do you?"

_I __so__ love you_, he thought, realizing that he meant it, even as he shook his head and watched her clean him up using just her lips and tongue. "Fuck," he whispered, feeling himself hardening again. "No one's ever done this for me."

Tickling his bellybutton with her tongue, she grinned impishly. "Hmmm… so, I get one of _your_ firsts this time!"

His heart slamming under his ribs, Harry's voice abandoned him, and he found he could only nod.

When she'd finished her enjoyment of his stomach, her mouth traveled lower, until she gripped his erect staff once again in hand. "You don't have to," as her lips moved over the tip of him, placing small kisses. "Oh, man…"

Shyly, she looked up at him. "Do you want me to?"

He huffed in surprise. "Are you kidding? It would be my greatest wet dream. Do you want me to tell you what to do, or would you like to experiment?"

Her hand stroked up and down on him, and she watched it, fascinated, as he grew rock-hard in her palm. "I'd like to experiment a bit, I think."

He nodded. "Just… no teeth. That's all I'm saying." She smiled, and playfully nipped his crown with very light pressure. He sighed at the lovely sensation. "Okay, that was fine," he admitted, "but no harder."

"Shush, you," she good-naturedly remonstrated. "Lie back and enjoy. Your love-slave wishes to serve her King."

Harry laughed. "Yes, honey, anything you say."

He watched her learn her way around him using lips and tongue, kissing every inch of his length first, licking it like a lolly next. He nearly shot another load off when she finally wrapped her lips around the tip and drew it into the hot, moist cavern of her mouth. He did make a rather undignified, loud groaning noise, which culminated in a hissed profanity under his breath as she dropped lower, then sucked on her way back up.

Taking a torturous amount of time, she learned all on her own (probably utilizing some of the things she'd heard about from those corruptible roommates of hers) the proper way to take him deeper into her mouth, and the correct pressure on the withdrawal. She coupled her mouth's exploration with her hand, practicing how to use both in conjunction to draw from him her favorite noises. By the time she'd gotten half his length in her mouth, nearly bumping the back of her throat, Harry was panting, his balls aching and hot for another release. "Honey, I'm gonna come any second. Pull away."

Tracey dropped back down on him, refusing to heed his advice.

He tried again, pinching the base of his penis to try to stave off the inevitable. "Tracey, pull off now if you don't want me coming in your mouth," he grunted, tensing up every muscle in his lower body, feeling sweat drip off his brow and down his cheek.

His girlfriend calmly moved his hand off his dick and sucked hard on the upstroke, then took him back in her mouth and rolled her tongue around him. That did it. "Honey… oh… _GOD!_" he shouted to the ceiling as he released in fiery spurts that made his head ache and fireworks explode behind his eyelids. He exhaled a guttural, animal cry of blissful relief, feeling his come shoot into her mouth.

"Swallow, honey, breathe through your nose," he grit, looking down and noticing her struggling to hold his essence in her mouth. "Swallow." Her throat convulsed and he felt his semen slide away. "Breathe through your nose," he petted her cheek softly. "That's it," he encouraged as he felt his high dissipate and her do as he requested. Another small burst of his seed escaped him again. "Swallow." He had three more simultaneous spurts come out of him over the next few seconds, and each time, he directed her. She performed perfectly, seeming to lose her anxiety under his coaching and his gentle voice and touch.

When he was wrung of every drop, he very carefully slid her mouth away, and pulled her up his body to kiss her. He felt the tears in her eyes drip down her cheeks, knew it had been more than she'd expected and she'd been a bit frightened by the experience. He kissed her loving and sweet, and spoke tenderly, softly against her lips in an attempt to ease her. "You did beautifully, honey. I've never felt so wonderful. Thank you for that."

Her breath shuddered with her emotional release. "Really? So… you liked it, even though I didn't really know what I was doing?"

Rolling her over, Harry covered her body with his, cradling her within his arms, continuing to kiss her. "You were perfect, my Tracey - _so _perfect. I loved it." He rubbed her tears away. "I'm sorry it scared you. I never wanted that."

Her lashes were beaded with her tears as he pressed his forehead to hers and they stared at each other earnestly. "Harry… can I tell you something without freaking you out?"

His stomach did that sick flip again and he stilled, fearful that she'd say she never wanted to do that again with him or that she wanted to forfeit now and couldn't handle a relationship with him. _Please, no,_ he prayed. Despite his fear, he nodded. He'd hear her out, even if it meant she'd rip his heart from him in the next moment. He prepared himself for the worst.

Touching his cheeks with feathery caresses, his girlfriend stared into his very soul and didn't look away.

"I love you."

The world stopped. Harry fell off.

Tracey's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "What?" she whispered, and honestly, he couldn't believe he'd said such a ridiculous thing himself. After all, they'd only just met tonight. Well, _he'd_ met _her_; she'd apparently liked him for a while now.

He thickly swallowed and tried again.

"I've fallen for you. Please don't walk away."

Agate eyes of multi-hues blinked twice and then scrunched up in joy. Tracey laughed and threw her arms about his neck, pulling his face down rather hard into her throat. "Oh, Harry! I'm not going to walk away from you!" She leaned her mouth against his ear. "I was going to tell you that I'm in love with you."

It took him five long seconds to process that. "Really?" he asked, muffled by her hair. Pushing with some resistance against her hold, he was able to look her in the face again. "I mean, you don't have to say it just because I did or because you're my girlfriend or anything."

Tracey giggled. "I've loved you from the first moment I saw you walk out of Ollivander's with your wand. You're the reason I've waited to do any of this. I wanted it to be with you."

He shut his eyes and thunked his forehead down on her cheek lightly. "Oh, thank God. Because I was sure you were going to tell me you were so freaked out by what we just did that you didn't want to see me anymore."

She kissed his cheek. "I will admit that licking and kissing you… and… well, swallowing you… it _was_ scary. But you were there with me, helping me to learn. I think the next time, I won't be so frightened."

Harry perked up. So did his little, tired friend between his legs. "Next time?" God, he was like a little puppy, salivating at the food bowl or something. If he'd had a tail, he'd be wagging it at her confirmation that there would be a next time for her to suck him off. As it was, his dick was bobbing, struggling valiantly to rise again. "Well, that's great!" he managed lamely, grinning like a completely berk.

The chimes rang out.

"Shit, the game," he sighed.

Tracey's eyes flew open. "Your card. The massage!" Her hands around his neck moved fast to his shoulders and neck and began working quickly. "Almost forgot."

Harry's mischievous side popped in for a visit again. "If you're going to give me a _sensual _massage…" he hinted, while reaching up to grab one of her hands and bring it down to his hardening length. "Might as well make it someplace that counts."

His witch gave him an exasperated sigh. "It was supposed to be the neck and back."

"Well, this is _kind of_ like a neck," he joked, running her up and down his taut shaft.

She sighed and gave up. "Fine, but you're taking the responsibility. I've fulfilled my card in doing this to you three times now."

He leered and kissed her again. "I'm a Team Captain and can make the call: it counts." With that, he reentered her body with a finger and rubbed his thumb over her clit, stimulating her. "Have to make it quick, though," he began thrusting against her hand. "Eight minutes or so left."

She guided his hand down to rest between her folds again and began moving him through them. "Make them count then, my King. Just…"

Harry's heart rocketed into outer space. "No sex yet, I know."

They didn't make love, but they did both enjoy the next five minutes after that to the fullest extent, then spent the next two redressing, both humorously sore and knackered a bit (despite the Rejuvenation Potion's effects helping to keep them on their feet).

Back at the common area after, Harry grabbed his wand and _Scourgify'd_ them both, trying to erase the scent of their sex upon them. "Soon," he promised her with a final kiss. "I'm gonna make you mine real soon, honey."

His girlfriend simply smiled like the Cheshire Cat herself before retaking her place at the couch, eyeing him like a choice steak.

Gods, he loved her!

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

_**

* * *

**_

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

_**HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!**____**MAY 2011 BE FILLED WITH BLESSINGS FOR YOU AND YOURS!**_

**Berk = British slang for "idiot" (although its meaning is closer to "cunt," or "a complete moron fool you'd like to slap upside the head").**

_**Musical Selection this Chapter: "Must Be Doing Something Right" by Bill Currington. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**A woman is a mystery a man just can't understand.  
Sometimes all it takes to please her is the touch of your hand.  
And other times you got to take it slow, and hold her all night long.  
Heaven knows, there's so many ways a man can go wrong.**_

_**Must be doing something right -**_  
_**I just heard you sigh,**_  
_**and lean into my kiss,**_  
_**and close those deep blue "need you" eyes.**_  
_**Don't know what I did**_  
_**to earn a love like this,**_  
_**but, baby, I must be doing something right.**_

_**Anywhere you wanna go, baby, show me the way.**_  
_**I'm open to suggestions… Mmm, whatever you say.**_  
_**Tonight's about givin' you what you want – whatever it takes.**_  
_**Girl, I hope I'm on the right road, judging by the smile on your face.**_

_**Must be doing something right -  
I just heard you sigh,  
and lean into my kiss,  
and close those deep blue "need you" eyes.  
Don't know what I did  
to earn a love like this,  
but, baby, I must be doing something right.  
**_

_**Must be doing something right -  
I just heard you sigh,  
and lean into my kiss,  
and close those deep blue "need you" eyes.  
Don't know what I did  
to earn a love like this,  
but, baby, I must be doing something right.  
**_


	37. Chapter 7: The 6th Question

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: "Ms. Louis Cordice Zabini" **__recommended the song, __**"Terrified" by Katharine McPhee & Zachary Levi **__for this go around (originally, she chose it for Ron & Pansy, but I felt it fit everyone nicely). So, this chapter is dedicated to Ms. Louis Cordice Zabini - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

_**P.S. Unseenlibrarian**__ – You come through for us once more. THANK YOU._

**PLEASE REVIEW, FOLKS! What did you think of this chapter?**

* * *

_**CHAPTER SEVEN: THE 6th QUESTION**_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland**_

_**Room of Requirement**_

_**Sunday, June 14, 1998 (2:22 am)**_

The final warning chime sounded, signaling the end of the action period and the beginning of a new question round.

"Don't tell me we have two _more_ couples out?" Brown groaned, looking towards the row of private suites at the Weasel and Pans' door, as well as Theo and Daph's. "Not that I would mind, as that would mean we were up by another one, if not two – depending on if Parkinson forfeits or not. But, well, that would bring us down to half the players, and this game was just getting good!"

Potter stood, pulling down the hem of his shirt. "I'll check on Ron," he offered. "Malfoy, you can get your friends."

Saving Draco a trip, just then Theo's door opened, and he and Greengrass walked out hand-in-hand, both very rumpled, lips puffy and red, and from their body postures and facial expressions it was clear that his best friend had shagged the witch at his side. They stopped just on this side of the doorway and turned to speak very quietly to each other.

The distance was too great to eavesdrop or to read lips, so Draco turned back around in his seat and waited, his gaze automatically seeking out Hermione. She was strangely engrossed with the quiet display going on behind him, and as a result, didn't once look in his direction. As she waited along with the rest of them for the verdict regarding Theo and Daphne's continued participation, he noted that her hands anxiously rubbed over the tops of her thighs, and she nervously nibbled upon her bottom lip.

Draco found that behavior somewhat odd. Why would she care one way or the other?

Well, she _had_ championed Greengrass last Interrogations round. Perhaps the 'girl talk' she'd had with his fellow Slytherin teammates had somehow shifted the dynamics of those relationships about, and now she actually cared about the blonde witch's safety or something. Granger _was _the Pit bull feminist of Hogwarts, after all.

_Maybe it has something to do with Theo,_ a little voice in the back of his head wondered.

Movement stirred the air and then Greengrass was excusing herself to move past his legs and to take her place back on the sofa. Tucking her satiny dress under her knees properly, smelling slightly of wet, lush sex, she fiddled with her glasses and kept her eyes on the stack of cards lying on the coffee table between the two teams.

"Granger, can I talk to you?" Theo's voice rang out, and Draco watched as his partner slightly jumped in surprise at being addressed. Her dark brandy-colored orbs swung towards the blonde opposite her, who didn't so much as twitch in response to her partner addressing his ex-fling. Pushing to her feet, Hermione moved clear of Finnegan and Brown, and around the sofa, heading determinedly towards Nott.

Her attention focused on Nott, she didn't once look at Draco on her way past.

Unable to stop his own curiosity now, he again swung around in his seat to check out the proceedings. Potter had already moved over to the Weasel's room and was talking to him through a crack in the door. Draco ignored them for now, focusing on what his best friend had to say to Granger.

They seemed to be in a rather serious conversation, but once again, it was done in such low tones that it was impossible for Draco to really comprehend anything. When Theo's hand unthinkingly came up and touched her left arm, running up and down in a very familiar, rather sensual caress, however, Draco saw red.

Fuck that, he saw brilliant scarlet flares before his eyes – the kind of crimson a really strong _Stupefy_ sparks off as the spell hits its intended target.

He balled his hands and tried to rein in the irrational jealousy. It was only a touch - no big deal. Hermione had made it clear that she felt nothing for Nott any longer…

_Not true,_ that inner voice reminded him. Just a little over three hours ago she'd outright admitted that, when the fancy struck her in the past, she'd occasionally considered another 'go around' with Theo, but that only the belief that they wouldn't work long-term kept her from taking up the challenge. And she'd also confessed that she still masturbated to the fantasy of being with Theo. What if she decided in the near future that a one-off with Nott would be just what the medi-witch ordered?

Son of a bitch, he would _not _think like that! He would not sabotage his chances for a good relationship with Granger, or his solid friendship with Theo because of some ridiculous, imaginary doubts bred into him from a few bad, past experiences, his father's 'nurturing' childhood lessons on trusting no one, and his Slytherin legacy, which preached 'suspect everybody' as its main tenant.

Fidgeting, feeling irrationally hot under the collar, Draco stood and quickly made his way to the loo. He needed to get away from the moment and be alone so he could chill the fuck out and regain some bloody perspective.

Slamming the door to the men's behind him, he hurried to the sink, turned it on, cupped some cold water in his hands and splashed it over his face once, twice, taking deep breaths in between. The icy liquid hitting his face worked to turn his inner temperature way down, and to shock his system into sensibility.

Much better.

That done he turned off the faucet and reached for a hand towel to dry his skin. A pressing need to whizz pushed at his bladder, and he figured he might as well take care of business, since he was here.

At the urinal, he drained his snake, flushed and returned to the sink to thoroughly wash his hands. Bringing his cleaned fingers to his nose, he inhaled; Granger's scent was now gone, replaced by the generic, almond-scent hand soap found in every Hogwarts bathrooms. That bothered him, because it was almost like he'd never intimately touched her at all. Shite, not just touched - he'd _fingered her_ and made her _come_…

Closing his eyes, Draco leaned his weight on the vanity, and relived the memory of last round in his mind.

Her soft pussy had clenched around his two fingers, all tight and wet. She'd felt like warm, liquid satin. Her beautiful, taut nipples had been so responsive to his licks and nips. Her moans had been loud and true. He felt himself harden to steel in his slacks, and groaning, stroked his hand over himself once, unable to resist.

Maybe he should sneak into a stall and take care of this ache? No one would be the wiser.

But what if he got a great action card this next round – like her sucking him off, or even one of his shagging requirements? If he took care of his arousal now, he'd last longer, sure, but he wouldn't be as hard and the orgasm wouldn't be as satisfying. That's why he'd held off wanking last night, despite Blaise and Theo both suggesting he do so before they'd prepared to leave their dorm room in the Dungeons to meet up here on the seventh floor.

Bloody _hell_, he wanted relief, but he reminded himself again of his reasons for denying his own self-induced gratification then - the same as now: he wanted the first time he orgasmed during this game to be a result of something _she _did to him with either her hands or her mouth or… shite, her _anything_. He'd just have to wait, employing some of his snake's patience to get him through until such a time.

Decision made, he assured that his 'little friend' in his pants calmed down, adjusted himself over his clothing to make sure the bulge didn't show, and then exited the loo for the main room.

Back at the sofa, everyone was in place, minus Blaise, the She-Weasel, and now it looked like his ex- and her ginger boy-toy had forfeited as well. Taking his customary seat, he waved off Potter as the man opened his mouth to explain the obvious to his counterpart. "I got it. Pans and the Weasel are out, too. ___Qué será_, ___será__**.**_"

Without further ado, he reached for the next _Interrogations_ card, reading it aloud: "Name someone of the opposite team who you'd like to whip, paddle, and/or spank you in a sexual manner. You can't choose _not_ to answer this question."

At that last part, he frowned. He'd been sure that you couldn't write a question that wasn't open-ended; that the cards would force you to do so to allow players the option of answering or not. "Whose card is this?" he asked, looking about. Shaking of heads and shrugs greeted him. "Has to be one of the dropouts then," he concluded when no one fessed up.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Potter's hand move to the bridge of his nose as if to push up invisible glasses. Once again, the man caught himself at the last minute and halted the motion, dropping his hand again. "Why does it matter?" he asked.

Draco looked across the aisle at Granger, frowning. "I was under the impression that the cards didn't allow questions that forced players to answer." He held up the card. "The way this one is written, you can't opt-out. You're going to be compelled to tell the truth, whether you want to or not."

"That can't be right. What would be the purpose of the _Forfeits_ deck, then?" Hermione argued. She turned to Finnegan, the first to have to answer in order. "Give it a try, Sea. See if you can ignore it and pick up a blue card instead."

The Irish kept his mouth closed as he reached forward for the _Forfeits_ set. His hand paused right over it, however, and it was clear from his narrowed eyes and, eventually, trembling hand that he was fighting a compulsion to answer. He shook his head. "Parkinson," he grit the answer out between his teeth, and his hand moved towards the red cards instead. Letting out an explosive breath, he swore and pulled an action card. "Sorry, ya canna do it." He turned to the girl sitting at his left. "I don't want her – swear ta ya, Angel. The cards forced me fer a name."

Brown absently nodded as play moved on to her. From the start, clearly, she was fighting the coercion to tell the truth. After two solid minutes of silence, however, sweat beaded above her upper lip, her breath came in hard pants, and she looked to be in serious pain. Finally, she shut her eyes, and with a sob said the name of her Slytherin Dom of choice: "Blaise Zabini." Mortification stamped across her facial features, she scowled and reached for a red card.

Leaning back into the cushions, she glanced nervously at her beau. "I'm sorry," she whispered to him. "It was the same as you. I had to pick someone."

Next to her, Finnegan - who had gone utterly still at the revelation of the name of his would-be competition, a definite jealous gleam in his eye - shook his head and reached for the chit's hand, taking it in his with a firm grasp. He gave her a half-hearted, reassuring smile, obviously trying not to let this new knowledge bother him. "Not yer fault, Angel. 'Sides, would be hypocritical o' me, yeah?"

Draco thought the Irish a much better man than him just then, as he'd have flown into a rage if his girl had named…

His eyes were unwittingly drawn to Hermione again. It was her turn now. He was gratified to see her peeking at him through that fringe of dark, painted lash. She didn't even try to avoid the question, her grin playfully wicked and all for him. "No whipping or paddling allowed, mister, but I might let you spank me… if you're nice."

Instantly, all of the earlier negative feelings he'd harbored melted away, and he felt his smirk teased back into life, his heart warming in the rousing glow of their habitual verbal sparring. "I'm always nice, Granger – _especially_ to you."

"Ha!" she countered, her tone dripping with teasing sarcasm. "Sure you are, Malfoy, because you know I'd hex your dangly bits."

He grinned outrageously. "You can do anything you'd like to my dangly bits, Princess, just so long as you-"

"And, moving right along," Harry interrupted, loudly clearing his throat and indicating with a polite nod of his chin that his teammate was to take a card. Once she had, simultaneously throwing Draco a very naughty smirk, Gryffindor's captain turned to his partner across the way and down the other end of the couch. "You, Honey," he indicated Davis, "but only if you'd want to do that kind of thing, that is." He paused as he reached for the appropriate-colored card. "_Would_ you want to-?"

"If I couldn't finish my degenerate sexual innuendo, Potter, you can't either," Draco drawled, leering.

Scarhead chuckled, shook his head and took _une carte rouge_.

Play moved on to Theo.

His best friend seemed to be struggling similarly to how Brown had, clearly not wanting to speak his truth. Straight away, Draco understood why, and once more the green-eyed Devil cropped in to spoil his positive mood and turn his insides out. He attuned his whole focus to Granger once again, wanting to see her _exact_ expression as Nott spit his desires out for everyone to know.

The wait seemed interminable, but was really no more than one or two minutes. "Granger," Theo finally hissed.

Hermione's eyes widened and her cheeks bloomed red. Her guilt-ridden, concerned gaze immediately flew to Draco. With a small shake of her head, she tried to assure him that the feelings were clearly not reciprocated.

Knowing he couldn't blame her for someone else's lascivious desires - something entirely out of her control - didn't do a bloody thing to soothe his ruffled feathers. Just then, he wanted to drag her from the room and seduce the shite out of her, driving all thoughts - except those where _he_ was concerned - from her head. But they had an audience, and his House training kicked in by default to protect him from the possibility of personally embarrassing himself with an irrational outburst. Carefully blanking his face, he pushed his tumultuous feelings on the matter to the back of his soul and kept his lips firmly shut.

"Fuck, that's an idiotic question!" Nott stated, irate. "It _forces _you to name a chick on the other team, even if you don't really want any of them that way."

Finnegan nodded. "That's what I said. It doesn't allow ya ta pick the person ya _most_ want in th' world – just someone on th' other side who most appeals. Not a fair question at all, as it puts ya in a pickle if yer not paired with an opposite team member."

The Irish's words rolled around in Draco's head, unintentionally inflaming his resentment. Had Hermione picked him as her choice for this question round simply because she'd considered him the most attractive of his teammates, and not because she wanted him over all other wizards?

_And what if she did_, that annoying voice of doubt rose once more from the confines of his darker mind.

He chewed on that for a bit, as play moved to Greengrass.

"Miss Brown," the blonde spoke her answer with an icy calm, her gaze rising from the center table to look across at her choice.

The Gryffindor in question blushed in response and blinked in shock, her jaw literally dropping open with her surprise. Everyone else in the room groaned or tsk'd as they realized that, with one word, Daphne had revealed the obvious solution to the problem of this specific card's requirements.

"The cards were ambiguous on gender preference," Daphne explained.

"So, you have bi-sexual tendencies, then?" Granger had the audacity to ask, further shocking them all with such a bluntly-phrased personal question. She shrugged when everyone turned and gave her incredulous expressions. "I'm curious about how much influence the deck actually has on an answer. Did Daphne pick Lavender because she's _truly_ attracted to her, or was Lavender the 'safe' option because choosing a woman would prevent Teddy from blowing his top? Which criteria influenced her truth?"

Greengrass appeared to seriously consider her answer. "Although I suppose that I would not be disinclined to enjoy the type of pleasure that the card described from the likes of Miss Brown, in this _specific_ instance, the answer is the latter, not the former. As you have correctly assumed, Miss Granger, had I picked a man from the opposite team, my choice would have made my partner quite incensed. Preventing such a misunderstanding was my primary concern when deciding upon a woman for my final answer. Choosing Miss Brown from the three female options available then, was an issue of compatibility of temperaments. Miss Weasley is too easy to inflame, and you, Miss Granger, too easy to offend. Miss Brown seems more comfortable with her sexuality, from my observations."

Hermione seemed to mull over that for a second or two. "So, in this case, instead of fighting the compulsion brought on by the cards, like Sea, Lav, and Theo, and being forced to give an answer you knew would create conflict, you manipulated the card by finding and exploiting a loophole. Your answer was true, but also false at the same time. Interesting." His partner bit her bottom lip as her eyes strayed to the card decks again, and Draco knew that massive brain of hers had begun turning over the information, considering every angle.

Theo gave a sigh of appreciation and lay across the space on the couch, putting his cheek on his partner's thigh. "You are so perfectly Slytherin, love."

"I know," she said with an utterly self-assured, yet completely unpretentious straight face, her fingers threading through her lover's hair with gentle tenderness. Leaning forward slightly, careful not to tump Nott onto the floor, she reached out and grabbed a red card.

Davis was next. "Well, of course, I'd pick Harry," she admitted, a shy blush staining her cheeks. "Although, I really don't like pain, so I don't think I'd like to try any of those things – except if you did them, well, _gently_. Wait, is that even possible?"

Across the way, Potter laughed. "Honey, just about anything's possible with magic."

Tracey laughed, and the sound was musical, innocent – sweet.

Draco rolled his eyes and tried not to make a face.

Honestly, he tried not to look at the blonde at all. She reminded him too much of his first lover, Leila Zabini; same colored and styled hair, same body type, same smile. The eyes were a different color, but the facial structure was also very similar. Quite truthfully, it made him uncomfortable sitting next to her as he didn't want to make any kind of sexual connection with Potter's woman. At the start of the game, he'd specifically picked this corner of the sofa because it had allowed him a power spot in which to see all of the other players, and he'd thought Zabini would sit next to him so they could snark with silent eye, lip, and hand signals as usual. However, by the time everyone had sat down, there hadn't been anywhere else for Davis to park her bum except next to him, as Zabini had scooted in to make room. Now he was stuck trying hard not to notice her perfume.

Intentionally, he directed his gaze across to his partner, completely ignoring his teammate. The brunette with the enticing curls, the golden-brown, sparkling eyes, and the wicked, sexy grin became his whole world with an easy glance.

Sensing his stare, his witch met his gaze and threw him a genuine smile, lighting up the room. He returned it, quickly morphing it into a more evocatively heated glance to let her know his desire for her was unprecedented. Lazily roaming down her body, following the soft, sexy curves, he licked his lips in an open display of longing, recalling how every inch of her naked skin had gleamed under the lights in their private room not half an hour before. Merlin, he wished they were alone just then!

Davis reached forward for a red card, and that was the cue he'd been waiting for all round. It was now his turn.

"I'd love anything you'd do to me, Granger," he restated the theme of the night, his attention solely fixated on her, trying to pour into his eyes all of the heat he felt for her. "If you wanted to try the whole bondage S&M thing, just let me know. Sub or Dom, I'm your man." He winked at her, and her laughter was a joyful sound that warmed him, chasing away the darker thoughts for the moment.

"And another round comes to an end!" Potter announced as Draco reached forward and took a _Deeds _card. "You know the drill, folks."

Draco flipped his card over – and couldn't prevent the evil snicker from leaving his lips. This one was quite inventive. He wondered who'd written it.

It took him a second to calm down his rising cock before he felt it safe to stand. By then, Hermione was getting to her feet as well, and her cheeks were blooming amaranth, which made him excited to find out what her action card was this round. "C&DC," she spoke up to remind Brown, Davis, and Greengrass, and picked up her wand to cast the anti-conception spell upon her body. The other witches did likewise, he absently noted. Putting her wand back on the table, she made her way over to him, curling herself into his body for a hug.

Now this was odd behavior. Surprised by the uncharacteristic display of emotional need while in public, Draco wrapped his arms about her and lowered his mouth to her ear, placing a small kiss on the shell. "You all right?" he asked, hoping she wasn't planning to forfeit now.

She nodded, her hair tickling his nose. "I was just thinking about the cards and their influence. I still don't like how the deck manipulates us. And that last question…"

Wanting to change her distressed disposition, he rubbed his nose into her neck and possessively bit down over a spot he knew she enjoyed the attention. She gave a small moan in response, her fingers tightening their grip on his shirt front. "I like the cards _this round_," he countered. "And I think you will, too, Beautiful. Just wait until you see what you get to do to me."

Raising her mouth to his ear, she playfully nipped his lobe, getting back into the proper mood to satisfy his tastes. "My card says you've got to perform for my pleasure this round, too," she giggled. "So, I get _two_ rewards to placate my moodiness, it seems. I suppose it'll have to be enough - for now."

"Err, one thing: I don't have to sing, do I?" he groaned. "Really, you wouldn't want to hear that, Granger."

She faked a gasp and pulled away to look him in the eye, teasing him mercilessly. "Do mine ears deceive me? Are you suggesting that a _Malfoy_ has humanly limitations, too? Be still my beating heart!"

He shut her up with a growling, searing kiss. "I can more than make up for such an insignificant deficiency in other arenas, I _assure_ you, Princess." He started dragging her backwards towards the general area of their private suite. "Shall we get started then so I can prove it to you?"

He broke them apart, and, smoothly turning on a knut, took her hand to lead her on, his excitement levels rising by the second as he tried to imagine exactly what sort of performance he would have to give. Would it be licking every bit of her body like an ice cream cone? Would he have to give her an all-over massage with oils? Anything but singing would be fine by him.

"Time's 2:45am. You have until 3:35am," Potter called out before the door shut behind him and Davis.

Growling with impatience now, Draco opened the door to the room he shared with Hermione and pulled her in, her sultry laugh echoing behind them.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**_Qué será_, _sera_ = Spanish for "what will be, will be." In other words, you can't change the situation, so let it be.**

**Again, 'Dom' is short for 'dominant' and 'sub' for 'submissive,' referring to positions of sexual power in the S&M and bondage lifestyles.**

**Une carte rouge = French for "a red card."**

**.**

**Musical Selection for this Chapter: **_**"Terrified" by Katharine McPhee & Zachary Levi. Lyrics are as follows...**_

**(Woman singing)**

_**You, by the light, is the greatest find.**_  
_**In the world full of wrong, you're the thing that's right.**_

_**Finally made it**_  
_**through the lonely,**_  
_**to the other side…**_

_**You said it again!**_  
_**My heart's in motion.**_  
_**Every word feels like a shooting star.**_

_**I'm at the edge of my emotions,**_  
_**watching the shadows burning in the dark.**_

_**And I'm in love!**_  
_**And I am terrified!**_  
_**For the first time,**_  
_**and the last time**_  
_**in my only life.**_

**(Man singing)**

_**And this could be good; it's already better than that.**_  
_**And nothing's worse than knowing you're holding back.**_

_**I could be all**_  
_**that you're needing,**_  
_**if you let me try.**_

_**You said it again!**_  
_**My heart's in motion.**_  
_**Every word feels like a shooting star.**_

_**I'm at the edge of my emotions,**_  
_**watching the shadows burning in the dark.**_

_**And I'm in love!**_  
_**And I am terrified!**_  
_**For the first time,**_  
_**and the last time**_  
_**in my only…**_

**(Both together singing)**

_**I only said it 'cause I need it…**_  
_**I only need it 'cause it's true!**_  
_**So, don't you doubt what I've been dreaming -**_  
_**'cause it fills me up,**_  
_**and holds me close,**_  
_**whenever I'm without you.**_

_**You said it again!**_  
_**My heart's in motion.**_  
_**Every word feels like a shooting star.**_  
_**watching the shadows burning in the dark.**_

_**And I'm in love!**_  
_**And I am terrified!**_  
_**For the first time,**_  
_**and the last time**_  
_**in my only life.**_  
_**Life…**_  
_**Life…**_  
_**In my only life.**_


	38. Chapter 7A: Harry & Tracey

**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER_: _**_User __**"RiverRamsden" **__recommended the song, __**"That's When I Love You"**__** by Aslyn **__for Harry & Tracey this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Tracey's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**RiverRamsden**__ - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – Once again, we all owe you a big thanks for your beta work on this story! We're your own private cheer squad here!

**I have AN OFFICIAL BANNER for this story, thanks to user "gdgetgrl"! **You can see it here: _**http:/ / s905 .photobucket .com / albums / ac260 / RZZMG / Eros%20Psyche**_ (remove all spaces from that URL to make it load properly). It's the first image in this album (red background, lettering, images of characters). Isn't it absolutely beautiful? I'm so thrilled! Thank you gdgetgrl for such a wonderiffic gift! You put the "awe" in awesome (as my daughter likes to say).

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter?**

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**CHAPTER SEVEN (#1): Harry & Tracey**

This round, Harry gave her bunches of chrysanthemums. They decorated almost all of the flat surfaces in the room, minus the bottom tier where the large, futon-like pillows lay. Like the tulips, the mums came in a variety of shapes and colors – everything from wispy star-like patterns of red to full, mushroom-cap filled petals of white, to small, fluffy buttons of green. They were positively…

"Lovely," Tracey breathed in awe, rushing over to a bunch that covered an entire level of the Divination room, ringing it like a living carpet. She bent to run her fingers lightly over them, feeling the soft petals tickle her skin. "Oh, Harry, you are the most romantic man in the world!" She turned to him with a bright smile, and her heart caught in her throat at the sight of him watching her. He was a man at peace and clearly besotted with her. "I love you," she blurted, feeling a thrill as the words were allowed to finally pass her lips without being censored, as they had for so very long.

He embraced her and kissed her sweetly. "Love you, too, honey."

Merlin, she adored when he called her that!

"So, what does your card say this round?" he prompted, nuzzling her neck and causing things inside her to turn over and flutter about.

Flipping her card, she read it over his shoulder, trying to ignore the desire he was inflaming as his tongue snuck out and licked her throat:

"_**DEED: Order and share your favorite meal with your partner. Explain to them why you like every part."**_

Harry pulled away to read his card off to her:

"_**DEED: Your partner has to kiss your neck, ears, face and lips as you instruct them." **_

Instead of letting her momentary disappointment at the tameness of this round's actions affect her mood, Tracey instead tried to look for the silver lining: this could be a solid chance to talk and firm up her emotional connection to Harry, without the physical stuff getting too much in the way. _Like two people who are dating should do,_ she reminded herself. Being in a relationship wasn't all about the sex, after all. She'd heard enough over the years from her roommates' experiences to know that if all you concentrated on was the bedroom stuff, and there wasn't anything else underneath to support the interest beyond that, things fizzled out as soon as you fell into a routine.

So, this would be a foundation-building round. Well, that was just fine with her. They'd still get a chance to snog a bit, too, it seemed.

"A meal, hmmm? Let me think now…" She concentrated. What was her favorite type of food?

Well, it was the beginning of summer already, and traditionally, her family got together during the season and had picnics. There was always great food at such events, so she picked out some of her most preferred to share with her boyfriend. With a thought, she conjured a small, round picnic table with matching chairs and two place settings. Upon the plates, she imagined her food selections, as well as the drink and the after-course. The food appeared with a small pop.

Tugging her man's hand, she led them over to the sumptuous banquet. They sat across from each other, dropping napkins into their laps, letting the wafting scents of the food entice their appetites.

Harry's smiling face took in the feast before him. "Hungry much?" he joked.

Tracey shrugged. "I haven't eaten since dinner, which was about eight hours ago. And picnic food is my favorite. It reminds me of spending time with my family."

Her boyfriend sat back in his chair, his face betraying serious interest now. "Tell me about them."

She'd forgotten: he didn't have any family, did he? Well, aside from the Weasleys and the Grangers taking him in as surrogates. His parents were dead, though – everyone knew how and why – and he'd had no siblings. She'd overheard him talk about the awful relatives that he stayed with to Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, so she somewhat understood his situation. Perhaps it would bring him some comfort to know her family, then.

"Well, my family is a sizable one, but we're a mix on magical talent," she began, "and all of it is on my mother's side of the family. Dad's side is made up of Muggles – a brother and his parents – and they haven't a clue about the magical world. We have to hide who we are from them, per the Ministry's requirements, which means we don't see each other but once or twice a year for holidays." She made a face, as if to say, 'what can you do?" She didn't much like her Uncle Frank, honestly, who was really far-too into himself to spend much time with people, and her father's parents… well, her gram liked to pinch her cheeks too hard and her granda smelled like his denture cream and cigarettes, neither scent she could stomach for very long.

"During the summer though," Tracey continued, enthusiasm lacing her voice as she got to talk about her favorite side of the family, "mum's witch sisters - Aunt Fergie, Aunt Leticia, and Aunt Josie - and my mum's parents – who aren't magical, as the talent skipped them and the preceding three generations, which is why I say my mum's Muggle-born - like to have family picnics at least once a month. All of the cousins come, too – I have ten cousins between the three women, plus there's me and my two older, twin brothers, Kenny and Quinn. It's one big bash when we get together, filled with food and play and games. We've done it for as long as I can remember."

She waved a hand over her plate. "This is the type of food we typically eat at such gatherings. Usually the men tend the barbeque, while the ladies make all the side dishes. It's tradition." She held up the meat skewers with her fingers. "The yellowish one is curry chicken kebobs, the darker one is steak kebob with roasted veggies. My Aunt Josie's husband, Uncle Dreydonn, loves food from the East, and so these have become a regular staple at our events as a result. Try the curry chicken one with the mint yogurt sauce – it's the white stuff on the side there." She pointed to the salads next. "Cucumber, tomato and sweet onion salad with rice vinegar. One of Aunt Leticia's favorites. And this is half-roasted potatoes with fried onion, bacon and herbs – Aunt Josie's typical contribution." She lifted her glass of lemonade and took a sip, smiling in delight. "My Aunt Fergie makes the best homemade lemonade from these magical pink lemon trees that she'd grown from seedlings." She finally indicated the pudding portion of the meal. "And mum does dessert every time. This is one of my favorites from her: raspberry-apricot fool."

Harry dove in at her suggestion and made humming noises in delight as he tried each dish, and sipped from the drink. "It's brilliant - all of it. And it sounds like you have a smashing time together." He took another gulp of the lemonade and smiled. "Way better than pumpkin juice." Scooping up another forkful of potatoes, he paused and looked at her. "Tell me about your brothers."

Tracey finished chewing the steak kebab, and took a drink to wash it down. "They're seven years older than me, and Kenny's already married - to a witch. They have a two year old son, Lincoln. Quinn's not married, but then I wouldn't expect he'd be." She picked up a chicken skewer with her fingers.

"Why not?" Harry asked out of sheer curiosity.

She shrugged again. "He's a hermaphrodite."

Lips twitching, she watched Harry falter for a moment, clearly taken aback by such a blunt, unusual comment. He stared across the table at her in complete silence, assessing her through sharp, green eyes. After all, what do you say to such a thing?

"You made that up to yank my chain," he finally determined, a smirk crawling up the side of his cheek.

Unable to hold back any longer, a lively giggle erupted from between her lips. "Guilty!" She took another sip of her drink. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

He raised a dark eyebrow at her and grinned. "I'm starting to wonder if maybe the Sorting Hat _did _place you in the right House after all."

Eyes widening at that pronouncement, Tracey tilted her head, curious as to his reasoning. "Why would you say that?"

If he'd still worn glasses, he'd be looking at her over the rims, she knew by the way he dropped his chin and looked at her with clear skepticism. "You intentionally add a swing to your hips when you walk by me, you blurt out the most shocking of things just to get a reaction from me, and your eyes are constantly checking out my package in my shorts, but only when you think I'm not looking. You're _sneaky_, honey – a Slytherin by training, if not by birth."

Tracey laughed, feeling her cheeks bloom with fire. Harry snickered at her obvious embarrassment at being called out. "Tell me more about your family life. What was it like growing up with two older brothers – I assume they're wizards?"

She nodded, thankful for the reprieve. She really hadn't known he'd caught her gawking at his… _package_ (as he'd so eloquently put it). How utterly embarrassing! "Yes, they're seven years older than me, so by the time I got my Hogwarts letter, they were already graduated by a year and working as Hit Wizards together. The age gap wasn't a factor though. We've always been close. They helped my mum and dad and me pick my True Wizarding Name, in fact."

He nibbled on the curry chicken for a bit and therefore, it took a good minute or so before she noticed the strained silence in the room. Glancing up as she licked her fingers, she caught Harry's confused expression. "What is it?" she asked, unsure if she'd said something wrong.

Harry dabbed his mouth with his napkin politely, and cleared his throat. "What's a 'True Wizarding Name'?"

It took Tracey several seconds to process his question. _Everyone_ knew about a TWN - didn't they? "You know, it's your unique wizarding name," she explained, "The key, in effect, to your magical soul. Like a Muggle Christening name, but only you and your paren-" Abruptly, she stopped herself from saying any more, realizing in a flash of insight why he didn't know about such a fundamental part of being a wizard.

"You and your parents know," he finished for her, looking deflated all of the sudden. He put his fork to the side and sat back in his chair. "So, what is it, exactly?"

Feeling as if she'd just kicked a puppy or cut down the last tree in a forest, Tracey swallowed her pity, knowing Harry wouldn't appreciate it. His parents, she knew from watching him all these years, were a big sore spot for him. Sure, he had his godfather, Sirius Black, to look out for him (now that the charges against the man had been dropped and he was free), but a surrogate wasn't the same as the real thing, she supposed. And his parents _had_ died rather tragically when he'd been a baby, before there could be any explanations…

"When a wizard or witch turns eleven, typically there's a special ceremony that occurs," she explained.

"Wait," Harry interrupted. "What's so special about turning eleven? That's the same age you get your school letter. Is eleven significant or something?"

Tracey nodded. "Oh, yes. In ancient days, there were ages that were seen as auspicious milestones. For example, if a child lived to the age of five, then that meant it would probably survive through youth, as the first five years of a baby's life are the most touch-and-go, health-wise. In a wizarding family, a ceremony is typically held at this age. If a child made it to eleven – ten plus one – it was the belief that they had defeated the ills of youth and would probably survive through adolescence as well. We have another ceremony to mark the achievement. If they survived to seventeen – fifteen plus two – it meant that they had successfully navigated all of the years of 'danger' for children, and passed into the realm of adulthood. Our final coming-of-age ceremony happens at this time, and a wizard or witch comes into their full powers finally."

"Five year increments, with an additional year added at every half-decade," Harry murmured to himself, lifting a kebab and absently chewing on it. "Interesting."

Tracey shrugged. "It's based on Arithmancy."

"So, what's the big deal about a True Wizarding Name, then?" he asked. "If it's no different from a Baptism ceremony's choice of giving a kid a Saint's name, then why's it so secret?

Tracey bit her lip. Apparently, she hadn't done a good enough job explaining. "It's more than that. At age five, the ceremony that's undertaken requires wizarding parents to check their child for magical potential. If he or she isn't a Squib, their magic is sealed away by the parents to prevent it from accidentally harming others. That sealing is done by binding the magic up under a special 'password' – a True Wizarding Name. Only the parents know the name at that time."

Harry considered that with clear uneasiness. "What happens if the parents die? Is the wizard or witch completely unable to access their powers then?"

She shook her head. "At eleven, the sealing breaks on its own. The spell only lasts the six years – through the formative childhood years, because kids lose control of their powers too easily. They lack all ability to control magic properly, so it's up to the parents to make sure that doesn't happen. Hence the need for a ceremony at age eleven – to reaffirm a partial block on powers." She took a sip of lemonade to quench her drying mouth. "Eleven is considered the start of puberty – another dangerous time. All those hormones rioting around inside can make magic unstable. That's why they send us off to school at that age – to teach us control."

"So, the ceremony is meant to do what exactly?" Harry asked, his face a mask of confusion, interest and a touch of anger. "Threaten the kid that if they don't behave, mum and dad will use this True Wizarding Name against them? Shut them down permanently or something?"

Tracey shrugged. "You could look at it that way, I suppose. My parents never used it to threaten me, though. For my family, a TWN is a sacred thing, not to be abused. They just told me it was my first adult lesson in responsibility; keeping my name safe was a personal test in diligence, my mum insisted. I guess it could also serve as a warning not to break the law, though. It works a lot like the Imperius Curse – forcing a witch or wizard into a state of compliance."

Harry was quiet for a few minutes, soaking in the idea, finishing off his lemonade in a big swig. "Why didn't anyone use it on Voldemort to stop him during the war?"

Tracey winced as the dark wizard's forbidden name was spoken aloud. "I… I honestly don't know, Harry. Maybe no one was alive who knew his TWN at the time he rose to power. It's the greatest secret a witch or wizard possesses, so it would be unlikely his parents would have written it down."

"And the Ministry has no record of a person's TWN?" he asked, and she could tell by the way his eyes narrowed and his focus turned inward, that there was a world of thoughts whirling through his head just then.

She shook her head. "It's between the parents and the child only. A lot of wizard and witches don't even tell their spouses, just in case of… you know… divorce."

Her boyfriend took a deep breath. "What about those whose parents died before they were five? Or Muggle-borns? They wouldn't have a TWN, would they?"

Tracey knew about the latter from her mum explaining her own experiences. "If the witch or wizard is Muggle-born, they don't get a TWN until after they get their school acceptance letter, and someone from the Ministry is assigned and sent to explain all things magic to the parents. I'm betting that's what happened in your friend, Miss Granger's, case. She probably didn't do her first wizarding ceremony until the summer before she left for Hogwarts the first time, and she probably helped pick her own name."

"How would she have been able to bind it, though?" Harry asked, finding the hole in the example, having finished off his plate and reaching for the dessert, digging in with enthusiasm. "She didn't get a wand until after that, and she wouldn't have had that kind of magical ability anyway, right?"

Deciding that she was finished with her dinner portion of the meal, too, Tracey picked up her raspberry-apricot fool and collected some cream on the tip of her spoon. "The Ministry contact is assigned to a Muggle-born for the whole summer. That witch or wizard would have helped her get into Diagon Alley to get her money exchanged at Gringotts and pick up her wand and school supplies. I bet that person helped her with the ceremony, too." She licked the white, frothy sugar cream off the spoon with a hum of delight. "The ceremony's a requirement before any student can start school, so she _had_ to have gone through with it."

"McGonagall," Harry excitedly snapped his fingers in understanding. "She said Professor McGonagall had been the one to come to talk to her parents and had helped her then. It makes sense." He frowned suddenly. "I didn't go through the ceremony, though. Why didn't I have to go through it? I've never even heard of a TWN until now."

Tracey had figured as much from the discussion. She swallowed her mouthful of yummy whipped fruit and cream mix before answering. "I'm not sure. Who came to talk to you about Hogwarts that summer?"

Harry relayed the events of that awful time to her – how his uncle and aunt had conspired to keep the letters from him, and how they'd even tried to take him and run from it all, but Hagrid had tracked them down.

"Bloody hell, _Hagrid_…"

He was silent as he pondered some weighty thought for half a minute more, finishing off his pudding and setting the empty dish aside.

"He can't do magic – legally, that is," he explained. "He couldn't have done the ceremony with me, and there wasn't anyone else adult enough until after I arrived here at school. But Dumbledore could have at any time…"

Tracey took another spoonful of pudding as she considered that. "Maybe the Headmaster had a specific reason for not wanting your powers locked away? You should ask him after the game."

Her wizard looked up at her quickly – and a peculiar darkness moved through his gaze. Startled, Tracey dropped her spoon into her lap, where it bounced and fell to the floor with a steely clang. Putting down the dessert glass, she nervously rubbed her hand over the tops of her thighs, watching him warily. What was going on? Why was Harry angry?

When his chair scraped against the stone floor and he made his feet, she tensed and felt her breath squeeze out of her. He came around the table and stopped rather abruptly before her, his emerald gaze fathomless. Slowly, he extended his hand to her. "Come lie down with me," he tilted his chin towards the pile of pillows on the floor. "I… need to hold you right now."

Her hand moved on its own towards his, and with a small tug, she was out of her chair and in his arms. Locking his gaze onto hers, he walked her backwards towards the pile, and then with an easy move, dropped her down onto the soft mound, following after. He knelt one leg beside her, the other between her calves, careful of her dress, and slowly lowered himself onto an elbow, looming slightly over her as she lay back.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, unsure if it was wise to disturb his mood, still finding her way around this relationship, with no experience to call upon to aid in the effort.

His palm swept up her cheek, touching her with a softness that belied the ferocity in his stare. A thumb parted her lips with slight pressure on her jaw. "Remember when I told you earlier that sometimes bad thoughts enter my mind?" Hesitantly, she nodded. "Now is one of those times. I'm angry and I'm bitter. I feel cheated." His jaw clenched and he swallowed hard. "I never got to celebrate anything with my parents. I almost didn't get to come to Hogwarts because of my aunt and uncle. And now it seems I wasn't even given the chance to have a True Wizarding Name for some reason I can't understand, denied by a man I trusted." He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. "I wish… sometimes, I wish I had a Time-Turner and could go back and change_ everything_."

His voice was choked; she knew he was fighting tears. Harry was not one to feel sorry for himself, she knew, but she also understood that he denied these feelings too much. She suspected that was the reason for his darker side.

She didn't voice the selfish fear that leapt into her mind at his revelation – specifically, that if he changed the past, they might not end up together. It was such a small, trivial thing in comparison to having his parents back, not to have had to live with his awful relatives for the majority of his life, and to have been raised in the proper traditions of other wizards. Her thought was unworthy of her deeper feelings for him, so she shoved it away, ashamed at thinking only of herself at a time like this. What Harry needed from his partner was understanding, support, and hope. She would offer him that, for as long as he allowed her to do so.

"Would you… do you _want _a special wizarding name?" she gently spoke, letting her fingers run through his thick, black hair, the idea popping from her mouth before she could censor it. "It shouldn't matter that you're almost eighteen to get one. The TWN is a life-long bond. It doesn't go away when one reaches adulthood – only the restrictive binding by the parents does. I bet there have been plenty of others in the past who haven't gotten one until later in life. And I know how the ceremony works, having gone through it. We could do it together. I could be the one to bind it to you, and you could bind me to an Unbreakable Vow never to reveal the name to another."

He froze between one breath and the next.

Fearful she'd said the wrong thing, Tracey backpedaled. "Er… I'm sorry. That was a tactless offer, wasn't it? Just forget-"

"You'd give me that?" he interrupted her, raising his cheek from her breast. The light of optimism twinkled in his eyes. "You'd take a Vow like that for me?"

She nodded without hesitation. "If it would make you happy." Feathering his cheek with her fingers, she smiled for him, wanting to lighten his sorrow a bit. "I love you, Harry. I'll do anything for you."

His lids slowly lowered with seductive heat as he focused on her bottom lip, long, black lashes fanning out and capturing her attention. His thumb rubbed across her mouth again. "_You_ make me happy, honey." He leaned down and reverently pressed his lips to hers, pulling softly. "How did this-" He grasped her hand and put it to his quickly-beating heart. "-happen so fast? It's like..."

"…magic," she whispered the answer, and wrapped her free hand around his neck, pulling him down so her lips could mate his again.

They kissed for long minutes, and then Harry pulled off, sat up a bit and unbuttoned his shirt, shucking it from his shoulders and tossing it aside. Reclaiming his spot, he turned his head, baring his neck to her. "My card says I get to direct your mouth," he reminded her of the game. "Kiss me here."

Latching her lips onto his neck, Tracey kissed, adding a lick for good measure. Against her leg, Harry grew rock-hard under his trousers and he groaned, erotically rubbing his pelvis against her. "Bite me there, honey. Leave a mark on me."

Her teeth sunk into the sensitive skin at the bend where his throat met his shoulder, and she suckled hard, giving him her first ever love bite. He gasped, jerking in her arms, shuddering from the intense cherishing of such an erotic spot. "Yeah, keep going, bite harder!" She complied, careful not to break skin, but giving him what he wished for most.

His fingers entwined in her hair, pulling through the strands to cradle her face. "Perfect," he murmured, and carefully pulled her off. Turning his head the opposite way, he encouraged her to mirror what she'd just done, and she gave him all of the loving attention she was capable of giving, wanting to please him.

Humming in pleasure, he changed the angle again, tilting his head down so that his mouth hovered over hers. "Kiss me like you want to eat me alive," he huskily bid.

She did, attacking his lips with an unrestrained fervor, need blossoming within her, growing exponentially with each pull of skin, each thrust of her tongue. Harry moaned, thoroughly enchanted by her efforts.

His right hand followed the curve of her body, stopping just once to entice her left breast before flowing over her hip. He began gathering the fabric of her dress up, pulling it so that her thigh was bared, and then he was slipping under the band of her knicks and touching her again. Finding her damp and desperate, he slid two fingers between her fleshy seam and stroked up and down, wetly flicking her clitoris on each pass.

Lost completely to sensation, Tracey gave into her wanton need and reached for his belt buckle, unclasping it, popping the button on his slacks and unzipping him.

"Careful," he warned her, his voice a low growl. "I want in you. I'm not sure that's such a good idea right now." His breath came in tiny pants as he struggled with his desires. "Let me make you come this way. I can hold off."

"But I want to give you pleasure, too," she countered, her fingers resting over his bulge, unmoving.

He shook his head. "You are, but if you take me out and touch me, I'm not going to be able to stop myself. It'll be hard and rushed because we're almost out of time, and honey… we're _not_ doing it that way your first time." He kissed her lovingly. "I want to make love to you right." He wiggled his fingers over her little pearl again. "This round, you kiss me, and I'll make you come, all right?"

When she hesitated, not liking that plan one bit, desperate to touch him _au natural_ again, he put his forehead to hers. "Please, just agree, Trace."

Reluctantly, she nodded her head. "Okay, Harry. I trust you, though, just so you know."

He sighed in relief and didn't respond to her statement, instead closing the gap between their lips and taking her kiss again. His fingers continued their stimulation between her thighs, until, with a final cry, she orgasmed for him once more.

Floating on clouds as she lay in his arms after, she continued to press small kisses along his hairline and temple and cheek as she could reach, punctuating each kiss with an "I love you," or an "I can't wait until I'm yours," and even once with a "you're getting heavy, you know." At that, his magnificent shoulders flexed and he pushed himself off of her, regaining his knees just as the chimes rang out.

He helped her up at the same time as he stood to his full height, and then took her into his embrace, chivalrously trying not to press his still-erect member against her. "If you were serious, I'd like to take you up on the offer of coming up with and binding me to a True Wizarding Name. I think it's something I'd like to do to honor the memory of my parents and their traditions."

Joy bubbling from her heart, Tracey threw her arms about her boyfriend's neck and hugged him tightly. "Yes, I'd _love _to help you!"

He kissed her one more time before they walked hand-in-hand to the door. "Right, so we can talk more about it next round, when no one's nearby to hear," she said softly as they exited the room. "It's a secret, remember."

Just before they hit the couches, Harry swung her around and back into a powerful, all-encompassing hug. "I love you, Tracey," he murmured against her ear. "Thank you for sharing a little of your family with me. I enjoyed all of it."

Nuzzling against his neck, she sighed in contentment. "You're welcome. And Harry, you make me happy, too."

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_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

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AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Musical Selection for this Chapter: "That's When I Love You" by Aslyn. Lyrics are as follows...

**When you have to look away...**  
**When you dont have much to say...**  
**Thats when I love you.**  
**I love you, just that way.**

**To hear you stumble when you speak...**  
**Or see you walk with two left feet...**  
**Thats when I love you.**  
**I love you, endlessly.**

**And when your mad 'cause you lost a game...**  
**Forget Im waiting in the rain...**  
**Baby, i love you.**  
**I love you, anyway**

**Here's my promise made tonight:**  
**You can count on me for life.**  
**That's when I love you.**  
**When nothing you do can change my mind.**  
**The more I learn, The more I love...**  
**The more my heart cant get enough!**  
**That's when I love you,**  
**When I love you no matter what!**

**So when you turn to hide your eyes,**  
**Cause the movie it made you cry...**  
**That's when I love you.**  
**I love you a little more each time.**

**And when you can't quite match your clothes...**  
**Or when you laugh at your own jokes...**  
**That's when I love you.**  
**I love you, more than you'll know.**

**And when you forget that we had a date...**  
**Or that look that you get when you show up late...**  
**Baby, I love you.**  
**I love you, anyway.**

**Here's my promise made tonight:**  
**You can count on me for life.**  
**That's when I love you.**  
**When nothing you do can change my mind.**  
**The more I learn, The more I love...**  
**The more my heart cant get enough!**  
**That's when I love you,**  
**When I love you no matter what!**

**That's when I love you.**  
**When nothing, baby -**  
**Nothing you do could change my mind...**

**The more I learn, The more I love.**  
**The more my heart cant get enough!**  
**That's when I love you -**  
**When I love you no matter what!**

**No matter what.**


	39. Chapter 7B: Blaise & Ginny

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**MissGumiho **__recommended the song __**"Caught In A Moment" by Sugarbabes **__for Blaise & Ginny this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Ginny's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**MissGumiho**__ - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK (rzzmg yahoo . com)! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised! Here are some of the entries so far: http:/ / s905 . photobucket . com / albums / ac260 / RZZMG / Eros%20Psyche / CONTEST%20IMAGES /**

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ - thank you again for the beta! Such a super quick turn-around too! You are fantasteriffic!

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

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**CHAPTER SEVEN (#2): Blaise & Ginny**

Hot, sticky, and greatly over-stimulated, it took Ginny three tries before she could make herself disentangle from Blaise's sweaty, slick body. Somehow, they'd ended up switching positions _again_, so that they'd finished this last time with her on top.

Shutting her eyes, she could see and feel her magical aura glowing with satiation. The desire to shag had been more than satisfied. Considering how sore she was, she hoped it would remain so for at least another hour or more. Seriously, could a person fuck themselves to death? She was starting to think that ridiculous urban legend might _actually_ be possible.

"Bath," she panted, rolling off of him and groaned as every muscle in her body protested. "I'm dying for a bath."

A little more composed, Zabini wearily sat up. His neck was covered with love bruises, and there on the bend of his neck, left side, was the imprint of her teeth and evidence that she had, in fact, bitten through his skin. She had to chuckle at her handiwork there. No woman within a hundred yards would be able to ignore the fact that this wizard belonged to someone else – to _her_.

Wow, since when was she so possessive?

"Ask and you shall receive," he joked, and immediately to the left of the bed, there appeared a sunken, round, Roman-styled bath made of marble, complete with steamy water that already smelled of relaxing oils that were sure to ease her bruised, well-used body.

She made it to her feet and bent over to give her man a quick kiss. "You are a life-saver. Join me?"

He nodded and together, they stepped into the bath. "Oooh," she let out a contented sigh. "That feels _good_." Blaise grunted in agreement, adopting a position across from her so he could take her foot between his hands and begin massaging away with an expert touch. "Oh, Merlin, that's wonderful!" Lolling her head on the edge of the bath, she glanced over at him with a goofy smile. "I so love you."

Her wizard chuckled. "Do tell."

Ginny stared at him for long moments, memorizing the angles and curves of his face, neck and the bit of his torso that peeked above the water line. He really was a handsome devil, wasn't he? "Would it go to your head if I told you that I think you're hunkiest, most delicious man this side of the English Channel?"

His perfectly-white grin was perfectly wicked, too. "Not at all. In fact, I think my ego could go for a little TLC from my woman just about now, so please, tell me more about how fantastic I am."

They laughed, and she lightly, playfully kicked him under the water, careful not to hit any sensitive areas. "You're so bad."

He chuckled, and the sound shot straight to her libido, re-energizing it. "So I've been told."

"By whom?" The question was out of her mouth before she could censor it and had sounded decidedly jealous.

The way he tilted his head and carefully arranged his features told her that this was one of those subjects best left alone. But, it occurred to Ginny in the moment she'd challenged his playboy reputation that she really didn't know all that much about Blaise Zabini, in truth. They'd thrown themselves into a chemically-charged, emotionally-jarring relationship, driven by sexual hunger and biologic need and a deeply repressed set of feelings for each other, but there was still so much between them that remained undefined, unspecified. Too much was unknown.

His fingers never stopped massaging her foot, but his gaze shifted away from her face, and down to what his hands were doing instead. "Do you really want to know?"

Ginny seriously contemplated that. Did she truly want him to divulge how many women and men he'd bedded? She knew of at least eight, not including herself. Was the number higher? How could it be, as he was only seventeen-years old? When had he started having sex anyway? Oh, wait - he'd told her that, hadn't he? At the age of thirteen, he'd been raped in the men's showers by two blokes. But surely he hadn't become fully sexually-engaged after that with others... had he?

"Ginevra?"

He was waiting for her decision, and the moment felt thick with tension. Her neck cricked with it.

"Is it a lot?" she finally managed, forcing her gaze to meet his again.

Her lover's dark, whisky-brown eyes didn't flinch as he slowly nodded.

Inside her chest, her heart skipped two beats. "More than the eight I know of?"

Another careful nod.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she wet her lips with a quick swipe of her tongue and stared off to the side. Treacherous curiosity burned out her brain. "How many men?" That seemed a safer place for her to start; she didn't feel quite so threatened with the idea of him fucking men for some bizarre reason.

He was quite a moment longer. _Counting his conquests_, the niggling voice in her brain snarked.

"I've had intercourse with six different men, two of whom made me participate against my will," he confessed. "I've also had multiple partner sex with blokes involved, but didn't touch them – only the girls."

Ginny's blood pounded in her temples. "Multiple partner? As in a threesome?"

"A few threesomes, and one orgy of seven people."

Her jaw hit the floor. "O-o-orgy?" She blinked and said the first thing that came to mind. "Was it all male action?"

Blaise laughed. "No. Not all men."

She bit her bottom lip. "So, how many girls?"

He cleared his throat behind his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, stalling. A quick glance at her, and then he looked a bit chagrined. "Over twenty, but less than twenty-five."

Ginny angled her neck and gave him her best, "you'd better spit it out, buddy" look.

"Twenty-two," he admitted, rolling his eyes. "Happy?"

No, she really wasn't. That was way more than eight. His number required five whole hands to count out for Merlin's sake! "Thrilled," she deadpanned, her eyes going flat. A new thought occurred to her then and that same, prickly inquisitiveness took over her mouth once more. "You haven't _done_ anyone who's playing the game tonight, aside from me, have you?"

The wariness was back in his handsome face. "Ginevra..."

He didn't want to tell her. That meant that he had. Who? Everyone was suddenly suspect. Had Blaise fucked Ron, Harry and Hermione, too? She shook her head, removing her foot from his grasp and sat up straight in the tub, her tone and features firm. "_If_ we're to make this work between us, Zabini, I want _complete_ honesty from you. I know that goes against everything Slytherin stands for, but let's just say that I'm not the type who handles surprises well. I'd rather have to deal and suck it up now, than have the truth of one of your illicit liaisons come back at me later."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at her. "It's a little late for the big 'IF' now, kitten. We're mated. No backing out, I'm pretty sure."

"All the more reason to tell me the whole truth," she stubbornly pushed back. "I've got my 'big girl pants' on. I can handle it."

He rubbed a wet hand over his forehead, eyes and mouth, cupping his chin, and gave a deep sigh. "I've fucked two of the girls. One of the guys in game was involved in that orgy, but he didn't let me touch him in that way; we just shared the girls and I fucked the other guy. And... and I've sexually messed around with one of the guys in the game, but we didn't have sex."

Ginny worked at keeping her face neutral. It took several moments to get the trick down, but she knew there was absolutely nothing she could do about how red her cheeks were. "Did you shag 'Mione? Did you mess with my brother or Harry?"

Blaise firmly shook his head. "None of the above."

Unconsciously, she let go of the breath she'd been holding, as well as some of the anger. Anyone else she could handle, but not those three. They were family (even Harry, to whom she'd lost her virginity, and since then felt more brotherly towards than anything else). "Tell me, please." A lot of the bluster had gone out of her indignation, and it carried through in her tone of voice.

Blaise looked away, his face tightening up in discomfort. "The witches, I don't care if you know – Pansy and Lavender. The bloke in the orgy - the one I didn't touch was..." He paused and his jaw clenched, and once again, Ginny could see the jealousy flare in his eyes. "That was Finnegan." Shaking his head, he ran a hand over his shaved head. "The guy I messed around with... Gin, I forced him with my powers, accidentally. It was right after they manifested and I didn't have any control. It wasn't his fault." He put his hand over his eyes, shading them. "I don't want him hurt again by what happened. Swear to me you'll never tell another living soul and I'll give you his name and explain it all."

Ginny crossed the water to his side and took his free hand in hers. "Blaise, I swear to you I will never reveal anything you tell me tonight unless you say it's all right to do so."

Nodding, accepting her promise, he looked so forlorn when he dropped the hand over his face. "It was Theo. We were thirteen. It happened only hours after Malfoy found me in the showers and helped me back to my room to recover from what Bole and Derrick had done to me. Theo had the misfortune of entering our dorm room right when my powers woke up. I... _bloody hell_, Gin, I all but _raped_ him!" Blaise's face and tone confirmed his inner torment over the incident. "The messed up part is he didn't know. He'd thought it was just natural lust – normal teen hormones or some shite. He didn't guess I'd enthralled him against his will." His dark, wounded eyes had standing tears in them. "He was an innocent in every way, and I took practically everything from him that afternoon – first kiss, first French, first oral. I even had my fingers inside him! The only reason I stopped and didn't fuck away his virginity totally was because I was afraid of going all the way again after the..._ incident_... in the showers. I would have done the same thing to him that Bole and Derrick had done to me if I hadn't chickened out." His voice hitched on a sob, and he drew her into his embrace for a comforting hug. "So, when I tell you that Theo is like a brother to me, you'll hopefully understand why I'm more ashamed of what I did to him that day than _anything_ I've ever done, Ginevra - and I've done some pretty fucking depraved things over the last five years."

What could she say to such a confession? How awful it would be to take advantage of another person using these powers they both harboured inside themselves. The call for her to couple with Blaise after he'd awoken her Veela-Sex Witch within had been all-consuming and uncontrollable. How would she feel if she'd done something like that to Hermione? The idea made her shudder. Her best girlfriend would never trust her again, and she knew she'd never be able to trust herself again, either. Such doubt would be crippling to her self-respect.

Gently caressing his back and neck, she held her man to her, unconcerned now of things as petty and shallow as the names of his exes and which ones might have a better rack than her. Some things just weren't as important in the grand scheme. "Blaise, the past is just that. Neither of us can change it. I've done some things I'm not proud of either." Breaking Harry's heart had been a big regret that came to mind, followed very closely by him finding out about one of his best mates, Seamus, shagging her rotten up against a wall not more than a month later and hurting him all over again. "But I don't think any differently of you. This... _thing_... inside of us both, it's so incredibly powerful. Hell, I bloody well shagged us both raw when I woke up an hour ago, and I _know_ the sexual energy within me isn't even half as strong as yours – I can feel it." She kissed his cheek, his jaw, working her way towards his lips. "What happened between you and Theo... it was against your will, too. I don't think you could have done anything to stop it, especially not at thirteen and just having survived being raped by two older men so brutally."

Blaise was shaking against her, as if he was in shock and cold, and yet his flesh was burning hot around her. "It took me a very long time to learn to control this," he admitted. "A professional Sex-Witch had to teach me. And I had to learn in secret. I couldn't let anyone know – not my parents or siblings, not the teachers, not other students, and none of the lovers I've taken since. Not even my best friends know the truth. I've kept it from Theo; let him think it had just been two horny teens going at their first exploration together. I've lied to them all, even as I've used this power to get what I wanted - _needed_."

He leaned back, his hands absently rubbing the wings of her shoulders upon her back. "Ginevra, you should know the whole truth: you're going to need sexual satisfaction on a regular basis now, too. I'm not sure how frequent for you that'll be, but for me, it had to be every couple of days. Sometimes a quick shag will work, but more often than not, it'll be long sessions of constant fucking until you're thoroughly sated. The Veela within is a very physical being that feeds off the sexual energy of others. It will drive you to seek out satisfaction, and if you deny it, it begins to hurt." He placed his forehead to hers and stared at her with all sincerity. "You _must_ come to me if you feel it stirring. Anywhere, any time. I'll give you what you need to keep you from hurting yourself and others. Agreed?"

She nodded. "Is that why you took multiple lovers?"

He shut his eyes, nodding and swallowed heavily. "The whole truth, yeah? I've occasionally had to spread the taking around amongst two or more people if I denied the need for too long. If I hadn't, I could have seriously hurt or even killed a partner."

A sickening feeling of dread settled in her stomach. "K-killed? But... I don't understand. My sister-in-law is a quarter Veela and she's never seemed to have any issues." Her brow furrowed as a bizarre thought occurred. "Of course, I haven't really been around her and Bill much since they got married last year. Come to think of it - they spend most of their time cooped up at their home and don't go out very often..."

Blaise tilted his head as if to say, 'that would be expected.' "Veela are related to Vampires and to a smaller degree, Dementors, Gin. Vamps take blood, Dementors steal the life force of the soul, and Veela feed on sexual energy. All do it with a unique type of 'kiss.' It's possible to seriously injure – perhaps even kill - someone if you go too long without intercourse and then try to use a single person to compensate, as you could literally drain all of the energy from a person without meaning to, causing their heart to stop. That's why Sex-Witches and Warlocks – the human prodigy of Veela that are magically-inclined - are monitored by the Ministry."

"Monitored? Wait, I'll have to _register _myself?" Her heart panicked, tripled in speed. Everyone in the world would know what she was! _Oh, no, No, NO!_

Blaise shook his head quite firmly. "Neither of us is ever registering. Not if I can help it. I won't let us be put out like freaks on parade for the world to abuse or ridicule." He held her tightly to him again. "You're _my _mate. No one else will _ever_ touch you or hurt you again. I'll kill any who try."

A related thought entered her mind then: "My parents aren't registered, are they?"

"Probably not," he conceded with a light shrug. "The news would have gotten around and you'd have known already. It's hard to keep a lid on gossip, and people can be cruel about this topic. That, despite the fact they all wish they could have a go with a Sex-Witch or Sex-Warlock, just for the novelty - hypocrites, the lot of them." He sighed in resigned weariness. "My mother's registered in Italy. She and her Sex-Warlock lover are getting married in December. They're both licensed sex trainers. It gives them some measure of respectability, I suppose, but only because they turn their bodies over to the instructional trade of sex-craft. For instance, I know Daphne went to see them last summer. Greengrass doesn't have the gift, but she wanted to learn techniques. Others go to them to help them control their hereditary powers once they awaken. Because my mum does things like that, no one openly says nasty things about her. I know they talk behind their hands when she walks in a room, though - even acknowledged as she is as a 'professional educator' by the Ministry."

Ginny thought hard about the ramifications of her Sex-Witch status, and what her future might hold for her now that her family's dirty, little secret was finally revealed through her 'awakening.' What should she say to her parents when she saw them in a week for Ron's commencement? Should she confront them about her early transition? What about her brothers - were any of them like her? And beyond next Saturday, what then? Hell, would these newfound powers affect her future career aspirations? What about her want for a family someday of her own?

As she paused to consider that last thought, an astonishing revelation came to her then: she and Blaise had bonded in some weird magical ritual tonight that she could feel had settled itself deep in her bones, her mind, and her very soul. He'd called her 'mate,' and she'd dubbed him the same. They'd marked each other with teeth and sealed the bargain in a shared bloodletting. In effect, he was now her...

"Husband," she muttered, feeling like she was being suffocated all over again.

Holy. Shite.

In one night, she'd gone from being boyfriend-less, several months celibate, and a normal teen witch worrying about grades, her awful periods and the horror of awakening to a pimple to being _forever_ mated to a man she'd been terrified of not less than eight hours ago, and discovering that she wasn't quite as human as she'd always believed – that her parents had lied her whole life about their family origins. She was now a social pariah, and would have to hide the truth from the Ministry. Did that make her an outlaw? Oh, Godric!

"Breathe, my lioness," Blaise concernedly instructed her, loosening his grip around her to give her some space as she thoroughly hyperventilated. "Slow, deep breaths, that's it."

A good ten minutes later, and with the help of his calming voice and soft caresses, her panic attack slowly subsided.

"Okay, I think I just officially wigged myself out," she forced herself to think about the situation rationally, repeating the mantra that helped her out of many a bad emotional spot before: _WWHD – what would Hermione do?_ After all, her friend was one of the most practical, intelligent women she knew, and if anyone could find the silver lining to storm clouds in the sky, it was Hermione Granger. Ginny would just have to try to emulate her friend in this situation. "Right. We're mated. I'm only sixteen - _almost_ seventeen, but... it's done. No taking it back, like you said. And yeah, it happened _really_ fast, but... funny - I don't regret any of it. What's happening with us is mind-blowing... and _hot_... and the best thing I've ever felt in the whole of my life." She peeked through her lashes up at him. "_You_ don't regret it, though, do you? You should tell me now. I'll probably rip your bollocks off if you _do_ say you regret it, but I'd eventually understand... someday. All right, maybe not. Maybe I just..."

She knew she was garbling like a Christmas goose trying to avoid the axe man, but couldn't seem to put a cork in it, her mind rioting at a million kilometres a second. Blaise put a stop to her foolishness by simply swooping in and capturing her lips in a scorching kiss, effectively cutting her off. Her lover's golden aura rose up around her again, permeated through her skin and straight into her core, stroking her desire into a blazing frenzy in seconds. Against her hip, he grew incredibly hard, and between her thighs, her arousal burned, renewed in its fervour.

Lifting her easily in the water, he had her turned and bent over the edge of the tub and her legs spread wide in a straightforward series of moves. Slowly, he worked his thick cock through the swollen, tight layers of her channel, entering her a bit, pulling back until only the tip of him was inserted and then pushing in a little further. Her sore, tired body loved every moment of being opened back up by him. "Yes, yes!" she all but pleaded, tilting her hips back to give him a better angle. "Go deep! All the way."

He accommodated her request with several more thrusts, finally burying himself to the hilt in her snug pussy with a low groan that vibrated through the room. Instead of slamming into her, as she so desperately wanted, however, he stilled.

"_Accio_ wand," he commanded, and as his magic reached out and fulfilled his request, there was the slap of his wood hitting his hand. Immediately, he cast the C&D Charm upon her with his wand. "No accidents, love," he cited as he lay the rod down on the edge of the bath. "Now, grip the edge and hold on," he bid her, and when she complied, he gave her the pounding of her life.

It hurt so good! She was crying out in long, wailing moans for him in no time. "Blaise... oh, _Blaise!_ Ooooh, Godric, so amazing! More, more! Faster! So deep!"

Her first orgasm swept her away the moment his pace increased, and he stilled within her, his heavily panting breath blasting across her spine, giving her electric chills to go along with the lightning ecstasy that pulsed through her womb. She mumbled incoherent words of amazement and pleasure, her legs and arms uncontrollably quaking, her heart an out of control monster raging in her chest.

When the tremors finally ceased, he leaned over her, pressing his chest to her back, his mouth to her ear. "In case you didn't get the message: no, I don't regret making you mine_."_

Tears of joy and fear for this beautiful, new thing between them wavered before her, fell down her cheeks. She sobbed with the overwhelming emotions within her breast, struggling with the words to convey her feelings to him. "I love you. I... _Godric,_ I... Blaise..."

He gently moved his hips as he spoke, tenderly stroked her aura with his, working her arousal back up._ "_I'm going to fuck and love you every single day for the rest of our lives, Ginevra." He kissed her shoulder, working towards her throat. "My sweet..." He kissed over the bite mark he'd left earlier, causing shivers throughout her body. "Tempestuous..." He licked the spot on her neck at the same time as two of his fingertips – pre-moistened and slick - rimmed her back entrance, tickling it, making her insides clench with tight need. "Lioness." Biting down on her throat, he restated his claim upon her, piercing her small, ringed hole with his wet fingers and shoving them in all the way, even as his hips jerked hard against her once more. He filled her up and fucked her just like that, his fingers moving at the same pace as his shuttling cock.

The experience was incredible, the sensations inexplicable, shattering. It took only a minute, and Ginny orgasmed with a scream of ecstasy. In that moment, the girl she had been was gone, swept away by the hurricane of an emotional bonding that transcended their age, their experience levels, and what society might think of them. "I'm _your_ mate," she loudly proclaimed, finally believing it, understanding what it meant – including the ultimate repercussions: there would be no one else touching her like this. Blaise was _it_ for her.

He groaned in pleasure at her words; they tipped him over the edge, in fact. He exploded into her, filled her with his seed again... again... and again. Each surge flooded her, until his excess come dripped down his length, combined with her essence.

Collapsing back into the tub together, both shaking with the intensity of their coupling, they clung to each other for an anchor. Sore, exhausted, Ginny turned slightly in his lap and pressed her mouth to the mark she'd given him earlier, biting down on it again, needing to reassert her claim, too.

Blaise chuckled and held her close, tilting his head to give her unfettered access. "Yes, kitten, I'm all yours, too."

"Bloody right," she whispered in his ear once she'd pulled her mouth away, "you're _mine_, Zabini. No more girls... or blokes - unless we both agree, that is."

He snuggled down into the water and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "I suppose this means I'm going to have to have a talk with your father now."

Ginny's sigh of contentment turned into a panicked gasp and she quickly sat straight, meeting his eye. "He and mum are going to go mad over all of this! And my brothers!" She groaned. "If you thought Ron was overprotective, you've never met Bill or Charlie." Slapping a hand over her eyes, she sighed. "Let's just elope."

Her lover went very still quite suddenly, and she could feel his aura tremble with emotion. Peeking through her fingers at him, she wondered what was up.

"Is... is that a 'yes,' then?" he croaked, clearing his throat.

She dropped the hand away from her face, confused by the question. A 'yes' to what exactly? He hadn't asked her...

Oh.

_OH!_

Um... Well, shite, it wasn't like he'd _had_ to ask. They'd already bonded! How much more permanent an arrangement could you get? Still, it was nice to know he was nervous about her rejecting his proposal for marriage, even though he technically hadn't asked it outright. Should she make him?

His dark eyes were intensely locked onto her and she could feel his need to squirm as the seconds ticked by and she didn't answer. He remained perfectly still, however, his Slytherin discipline firmly in control. It didn't prevent him looking anxiously vulnerable, however. Such boyish charm got her all hot and bothered again.

Well, the question was simple then: WWHD?

She'd show some compassion for such clear misery, and throw him the bone.

"Yes, of course. Any time after August eleventh, though," she reminded him of her not-quite-legal age. "Otherwise, someone in my family might hex you to death."

The answer came so easily, it just slid off her tongue, as if it had been scripted.

The angles in his face relaxed, his gaze softened, and he let out a breath that he'd been apparently holding. Reaching up to brush aside a stray bit of hair that clung to her damp forehead, he let his fingers wander down her cheek, touching her with great affection.

"Then I'll have that talk with your father this next week," he promised her.

And just like that, Ginny had herself a fiancé.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Music Selection for this Chapter: "Caught In A Moment" by Sugarbabes. Lyrics are as follows...**

_**Your stare swallows me ,  
and I can hardly breathe.  
I feel it's dangerous...  
Could be deadly...  
Somehow, I'm willing to do the things you want.**_

_**Take me in your arms,  
spoon-feed my heart and...**_

_**Drip by drip,  
I'll take it all.  
Sip by sip,  
I guess that it's  
make or break.  
Boy, here and now.**_

_**We're caught in a moment,  
and I won't let it go.  
I am falling deeper, losing my control.  
Involved in a feeling,  
like the blink of a eye...  
and the silence it belongs to you and I.**_

_**Broke through barriers,  
and passed a state of mind.  
I'm not scared no more.  
It feels divine.  
So, take me in,  
and catch me when I fall.  
I'm waiting on the edge.  
Uncut my soul.**_

_**Snip by snip,  
I'm oozing it.  
Bit by bit,  
I'm taking it.  
Step by step.  
Boy, here and now.**_

_**We're caught in a moment,  
and I won't let it go.  
I am falling deeper, losing my control.  
Involved in a feeling,  
like the blink of a eye...  
and the silence it belongs to you and I.**_

_**Secretly I let it slip.  
Emotional, I fall through it.  
All I know I'm losing my control.  
Way too far, and there's no turning back.  
And now I'm shedding all my fears.  
I know, I know...**_

_**We're caught in a moment,  
and I won't let it go.  
I am falling deeper, losing my control.  
Involved in a feeling,  
like the blink of a eye...  
and the silence it belongs to you and I.**_


	40. Chapter 7C: Theodore & Daphne

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**fuzzychxrx **__recommended the song, __**"**_**After Tonight**_**" by Mariah Carey **__for Theodore & Daphne this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Daphne's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**fuzzychxrx **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK TO: **_**rzzmg**_** at **_**yahoo**_** dot **_**com**_**.**

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – You are a miracle worker, my friend! How you can turn things around so quickly leaves my head spinning! _THANK YOU AGAIN!_

**Short, but an important character and relationship growth/development chapter. Necessary at this time.** **PLEASE REVIEW!**

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**CHAPTER SEVEN (#3): Theodore & Daphne**

Daphne's belly fluttered as she stepped up from the couch, aided by Theo's hand in hers. Silently, he led her into their private room, and with each step, despair warred with desperate hope within her chest. It was true that he had taken her virginity with love in his heart for her, and as a result, she'd achieved her greatest wish in life. So, why was she still feeling so much uncertainty?

_Because nothing about the future between you two has truly been resolved_, that doubting voice in her head taunted.

She knew that was an accurate assessment, and was equally as sure she would still lose everything she'd just won once the game ended, for the contract she'd signed with Carmen Zabini had been meticulously drawn and it's binding absolute; there would be no loophole to exploit, she could almost guarantee. It seemed a foregone conclusion that she would have no choice but to apprentice herself to the Sex-Witch and her partner, and to finish her training in the proscribed manner.

Theo locked their door behind them, clearly lost in his own deliberation of the situation. She stepped beyond him and further into the room and absently noted the décor and color scheme. She changed it with an abstract consideration from white to various shades of greens to help calm her mood. It matched the couch that was still looming in the middle of the room – the couch she had sat in as she'd unbuckled his belt…

Her eyes roamed automatically to the spot on the white shag carpet where they'd lain together and her nipples tightened from the residual memory of their love-making. It had been magnificent; he'd lavished great attention on her pleasure and loved her gently and slowly at first, coming into her with control and patience – the very things she'd longed to teach him in this game. Her orgasm had been preeminent, unsurpassed by any of her self-pleasuring activities, or anything she'd learned under the tutelage of her Mistress and Master last summer. He's sworn his love to her, his words piercing straight through her heart in that moment, nearly making her cry with their sincerity.

Her first time would never be forgotten. She would store a copy of it later for her Pensieve at home, so she could revisit it as often as she wished through the long years to come.

As if summoned by her stray thoughts, her lover stepped into her private space, pressing the front of his body to her back. He radiated heat; it made her shiver and pimpled the flesh on her cool, bared arms. In that moment, Daphne could intuitively feel his attention fixated on the same exact spot on the floor, and knew he was recalling their first sexual encounter as well.

_Touch me again_, she silently pleaded, yearning for him to somehow magically hear her. _Convey me to the floor or the sofa or the bed and make love to me again, Theo. Compel me to eternally forget who I am and all my tomorrows._

Gentle fingers brushed her long, flaxen hair off one shoulder, baring it for lips and tongue to explore. His head bent to the task, his breath hot, breezing across her skin like a desert's lapping wind. _Yes, like that. Begin there._

Unexpectedly, his hand reached for her card. He took it from her grasp and silently read this round's requirement:

_**DEED: Your partner must give you a sensual massage with a nice scented oil of your choice.**_

When he'd read his instructions, he tossed it away and then held his own card before her eyes so she could read it for her own edification:

_**DEED: Your partner must dance with you – however you want. **_

She nodded in understanding and acceptance of the directive, and he dropped the small, rectangular piece of laminated cardboard without another thought.

The lights dimmed a moment later, and the sound of a sensual jazz guitar and piano began playing softly in the background. There were no words to the song, just a sweet melody that lulled and set the mood. The room had, apparently, adjusted itself to Theo's mental wishes.

Her warlock did not speak as his hands rested on her waist and he sinuously swayed them both back and forth to the melody. He continued to move even as he pulled the tie of her halter loose. With a quick yank and a silken flutter, her dress slipped to the floor. Her glasses were next; he carefully removed them from her nose and, conjuring a small table to the side with a thought, placed them gently down, assuring they didn't break. The clasp of her bra was seductively undone as he ran fingertips over her back, the straps slid down her arms, the cups falling away to reveal her breasts to the chilly air once more. Enfolding her in his embrace, he fondled the sensitive mounds of flesh with his hands, working them in circles in time to the music and the movement of their bodies.

Hot teeth and lips nipped small bites and kisses along her shoulder and down her back as he bent to follow her spine, until he was forced to kneel to reach the sway of her hind. With persistent, but tender touch, he freed her of the last of her lingerie, gliding it down her thighs, over her calves, lifting each foot to free the greenish-blue silk lace.

Now that she was fully naked for him again, he traced his hands up and down her legs, even while placing nipping kisses upon her waist and flanks, her fleshy buttocks, the backs of her knees. It was done so lovingly, so assuredly that Daphne felt her heart break all over again.

Crawling around to the front, he wetly laved over her hip bones, following the dip downward into the vee of her thighs, his hands smoothing over every inch of skin within easy reach. When his tongue naughtily dipped and licked straight through the center of her pussy, she gave an inarticulate cry of pleasure. Running her fingers through his hair, she held his mouth in place as he carefully rasped across her clit with his teeth, her insides fluttering with renewed arousal. She hadn't been at all prepared to be swept away quite so thoroughly nor so quickly by reawakening desire, but in less than a heartbeat, she'd lathered his mouth and chin with her essence.

Feasting upon her with a beauty that made her control slip away entirely, her wizard spent long moments attentively sweeping and suckling upon each ivory-colored lip, kissing her quivering flesh with tenderness. His tongue lowered, rimmed the pink, oval opening of her vagina and sunk deep inside, fucking the clenching depths of her quim with slow, insistent thrusts. Did he taste himself, his sown seed saturating her moist canal? He'd been the only man to ever come inside her. If he hadn't known she'd been a virgin before, could he have deduced that by her flavor and scent now as he buried himself between her thighs and consumed her?

His thumb began to stroke in circles around her swelling, fleshy clit even as the devilish tip of his tongue found that little sensitive spot on the upper inside of her vagina and began stroking over it with deliberate pressure. The simultaneous stimulation proved too much. A whimper escaped her panting mouth as she tightened all of her lower muscles reaching for her ruin, and a moment later, she was tumbling headlong into ecstasy, devastated by him once again.

Heart beating so fiercely that her temples ached from the pressure, Daphne dropped down into Theo's arms, as he gathered her up and slid her onto his lap. They stayed like that, unmoving, holding onto each other, finding momentary respite in each other's embrace.

After long minutes, Theo sighed and, using his fine, Quidditch-honed strength, he got them to their feet. Lifting her slight weight easily in his arms, he carried her bridal-style to the bed, where he laid her down with care. They took time to assess each other in the silence, relying upon their Slytherin training to find and uproot all unspoken nuances behind their guarded expressions. "What was written in the face – in every line and curve and the amount of light contained in the meeting gaze - tells you a person's most intimate story," Salazar Slytherin had once stated in a treatise. The man had been a brilliant judge of character.

Unfortunately for Daphne, there was no hiding her despair, for its pain etched itself into the very corners of her lips and in the creases of the eyes. For the first time in her life, she was deeply, emotionally wounded, and found it extremely difficult to compartmentalize her feelings. Perhaps she had been sorted into the wrong House after all; wearing one's heart on their sleeve was the province of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, unworthy of a woman of Slytherin training.

Catching on to her fragile emotional state, shadows fells across Theo's face, darkening the sky blue of his eyes, causing his jaw to clench and his mouth to tighten. He was angry with her weakness; not that she was _showing_ any, but that it was clear in her unspoken intentions that she had already conceded to their inevitable break-up.

With hands rougher than she'd expected, he turned her abruptly onto her stomach, and her heart clenched. What was he doing? Would he touch her with cruelty now? She knew Theo had a darker side, having seen it once in a Quidditch match; he'd been furious at being knocked off his broom by Jeremy Stretton and turned his anger on the boy, putting him in the hospital-ward for three days, breaking several of the young wizard's bones. She'd seen that fury occasionally slide through his eyes when his mood changed for the worst. But would he force himself on her, cause her pain? She'd never considered the possibility before.

No, that was an unworthy thought - Theo _wouldn't _do such a thing. He'd been angry last round, but he hadn't hurt her. In fact, he'd tried hard not to force her to perform her card in an attempt to show her respect and care. He'd proved himself, and the loved he bore for her. She had to believe in that.

There was rustling of fabric and the lowering of a zip behind her, and she predicted he was removing his clothing. A moment later, he was on the bed, straddling her thighs. Her heart's cadence sped up and she took a deep breath to calm the irrational panic that suddenly gripped her.

_Trust him. He won't hurt you._

Warm, oiled hands smelling of orange and lavender smoothed across her shoulders a beat later, massaging gently.

He was performing his card!

The tension between them melted away in an instant, and her breath returned to its normal paces. The rush of blood in her ears receded, and she lay pliant under him, giving herself over to his tenderness, forcing her muscles to relax. He glided over her back, clearly unfamiliar with the technique of a good rub, but his effort was commendable. This would be something she could teach him before… swallowing back the lump in her throat, Daphne shoved that thought from her mind before it could finish.

His thumbs rubbed up and down her neck, working out her tension, they manipulated her shoulders and arms, kneading under the shoulder blades and loosening knots, they followed the curve of her spine down to her hips, where they discovered unexpected stress. He would stop every once in a while and reapply the oil that, she assumed, he'd conjured, keeping his hands slippery.

Sliding between her legs, he parted them further, and concentrated on her thighs, calves and feet, driving away all tightness. That task done, he slid back up her body. His breathing intensified as he neared her still-moist sex and paused, his thumbs resting right in the dip, a hairsbreadth away from parting her folds. He seemed to be struggling with inner demons as he lingered, suspended between actions.

Unable to guess his mood just then, Daphne stayed perfectly still, waiting on his decision, unsure what was the best course at that moment.

One of his hands lifted off her thigh. In the next moment, a finger softly swiped against her opening. She turned her head into the bed sheet and moaned. He repeated the action and she shuddered, feeling her womb tighten and her body prepare for her second sexual initiation.

As if reading her thoughts, Theo's knees wedged in closer, forcing her legs to widen, shifting her center of gravity. His hands gripped her hips, tilted them up, forcing her backside to fit tightly to the hard jut of his solid length. He pulled back, aligning the head of his cock perfectly, and with a single, deep thrust was sheathed within her to the hilt. She gasped at the sensation of being filled by him again; he stretched her out, bumped against her cervix, and filled her up until she rode that thin line of pleasure-pain.

As slowly as he had with his tongue, he thoroughly claimed her, careful not to bruise or to cause her discomfort as he surged into her depths, angling his stance to provide maximum stimulation for them both. The chorus of her gasps evolved into shallow, mewling wails as he raised her hips higher, changing the angle so he could pet her sex, teasingly massaging her engorged, swollen clit in circles. His hips pumped continuously through the lush heart of her, the rhythm increasing in fervor as her sumptuous arousal bathed her thighs and the curls of his pubis, making them both sticky.

Need swelled, expanded to encompass her whole being. Daphne squeezed her eyelids shut and threw herself into the great wave of pleasure. Lifting her face to the ceiling, she bowed her back and screamed in bliss. Behind her, Theo's efforts increased, his pelvis ramming against her as he took her hard, desperate. A whimper escaped his lips, and then he was jerking, spasming, shouting the roof down as he found release, too.

As the sensations rolled over her, leaving her feeling vulnerable and weak, Daphne pressed her cheek to the cool bed and fought against the tide of tears that threatened to envelop her. Her despair had returned full force, threatening to crush her yet again. _Why can't I keep you?_ she inwardly lamented, even as a sob was ripped from her throat and salty wetness trailed down her cheek, over her nose and lips. Pursing her lips together, she tried to stifle her sadness, but too late… Theo had seen and heard.

Her lover pulled his body from hers, moved to the side and turned her onto her back. Repositioning himself between her legs, he thrust his still semi-hard cock into her and bundled her into his embrace. His mouth sealed itself to her neck in a possessive bite that she knew would bruise and he growled low in his throat, as if he understood her misery and fought to reject it.

The floodgate of her fears opened in the face of _his_ anxiety, her tightly-held control slipped away and ashamedly, she wept into his shoulder. Theo pressed his lean, tall frame into hers as one hand fondled a nipple and his hips began moving in quick, short thrusts. Incredibly, he intended upon taking her again, his body more than able and willing. She was sated and tired, however, and her heart was too trembling and unsure to feel renewed passion.

Unwilling to accept her unresponsiveness, Theo pushed up on his palms and delved between them, seeking out her slit to coax her sexual hunger back into life. His face came into view over her, and he watched her with dark intent, the anger stamped into his features… along with some other unnamed emotion. Was that expectation? Serious in intent, he seemed to be conveying with his eyes some need from her, and the more time passed and she withheld it, the more incensed he became. But Daphne didn't know what he specifically wanted. Her inner turmoil had turned her so thoroughly inside-out, and the situation was so completely unprecedented in her experience. What was she supposed to know? What did he want from her?

As his penis hardened back to life and his shuttling became more earnest in its desire to reach an end soon, his anger became twisted by a growing despondency. Reaching for her wrists, Theo pinned them down to the bed next to her head and loomed over her, baring his teeth. "Say you love me," he begged with furious breath, tears wavering in his eyes, his cheeks rouged with temper. They were the first words between them since they'd entered the room. "I've been waiting. I've tried to be patient all round, to give you what you need, but it's not reaching you. I can feel you... slipping away from me. I won't let you! Say you love me, Daphne! Say you'll fight for us! _SAY YOU WON'T GIVE ME UP!_" Hot, fat tears hit her cheeks – his, not hers. "Tell me this means something to you. Tell me _I_ do. Tell me you won't throw me away, too."

Daphne's heart officially broke in half. Sobbing, she tried to reach for him, but his weight held her down. "I _do _love you!" she finally yielded, her pain giving her one last burst of energy. "I love you, Theo. I have for years, and I want you more than anything in this world. But this…" Her voice broke, failed, the strength quickly draining from her. "I do not know how to give myself hope knowing that you are going to walk away from me if there is no way out of the contract. You will be the one to throw_ me_ away in the end – I know this to be true."

Stubbornly, Theo shook his head. "No. Never." He punctuated his vow with heavy surging of his hips. "You love me. Slytherin's rod, I don't know how or why, but _you love me_. And you're the only person who ever really has. I _won't _let that go!"

Loosening his grip around one of her wrists, he shoved his fingers between them again, caressed over her swollen nub of tender nerves at the top of her mound, even as his lips finally – _finally!_ – met hers in a powerful, possessive kiss. "Come for me again," he bid around their greedy mouths and clashing tongues. "For _me,_ sweetheart. Come on, let me feel that sweet pussy of yours fuck me back, pull me in. Show me you love me again and again and again. _Show me._"

Lost in the swamping desire he roused to life, she fought to find equilibrium, but it eluded her. Theo was everything just then – around her, in her. His cologne was strong in her nose, his heat wrapped her up in sultry need, and the rasp of his teeth over her bottom lip coaxed her closer. There simply was no escape from the chaos he made of her mind, heart and body.

His proclamation to hold onto what they had gave her hope, and with it came strength and belief in their fledgling, fragile love. Daphne took the leap of faith that he was as good as his word, and that he would not break her in half when all of this was over.

_Take me, Theo! I give all that I am to you. I'll trust you. _

His mouth ate at hers as she began meeting his thrusts. "That's it, Daphne. Fuck me back. Fuck me, sweetheart. Love me."

Her freed hand gripped his shoulder and she dug her nails in for an anchor to sanity. "Yes, oh God, _yes!_" she screamed as her orgasm rushed through her like a gale-force hurricane. Whipping ribbons of pleasure stung her and brought bliss such as she'd never known. Her body hummed and pulsed with it, shivered and surrendered to it.

Gripping her hips hard, Theo pull her up towards him and crashed into her over and over; they collided with loud slaps of wet flesh. A dozen passes and with a pained groan and a blast of hot air across her shoulder, he came in her again, his hips bucking against hers with each jet of his seed. He roared in completion and with triumph, having won her capitulation. Their struggle as to whether their feelings were strong enough to stay together in a permanent relationship was decided.

Collapsing against her as his release washed over him, her lover pressed his sweaty forehead against her throat. "Love you… love you, my girl," he murmured between labored breaths. Under her ear, his heartbeat raced. "Mine, all mine. Not… not letting you… go. Stay… with me. Always, always."

Daphne nodded, her arms coming about her sweetheart, holding him close to her racing heart. "You win, my Theo. I will pray for us both to find a way to stay together beyond tonight – no, beyond this week. Should that fail… I will fight to keep you. I will not give you up either."

True, it was only a trembling hope they both clung to, but for right then and now, it was enough. They had found their resolution.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

_**

* * *

**_

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**The songs Theo chose for their mood music were all from an artist named Chris Spheeris. They were: **_**"Eros," "Psyche," "Ahhera," **_**and**_** "Carino." **_**I listened to them while writing this chapter. Give them a listen – very sensual and relaxing (and neat that he's got two songs that are this story title!).**

**Musical Selection this Chapter: "After Tonight" by Mariah Carey. Lyrics are as follows:**

_**I look at you looking at me…  
Feels like a feeling meant to be.  
And as your body moves with mine,  
it's like I'm lifted out of time.**_

_**And time again,**_  
_**patiently, I've waited**_  
_**for this moment to arrive.**_

_**After tonight…**_  
_**Will you remember**_  
_**how sweet and tenderly**_  
_**you reached for me,**_  
_**and pulled me closer?**_  
_**After you go…**_  
_**will you return to love me?**_  
_**After tonight begins to fade…**_

_**I feel your touch caressing me…**_  
_**This feeling's all I'll ever need.**_  
_**With every kiss from your sweet lips,**_  
_**it's like I'm drifting out of time.**_

_**Alone, will tell**_  
_**if you feel the way I feel**_  
_**when I look in your eyes.**_

_**After tonight…  
Will you remember  
how sweet and tenderly  
you reached for me,  
and pulled me closer?  
After you go…  
will you return to love me?**_

_**After the night becomes the day**_

_**Time and time,**_  
_**so patiently I've waited**_  
_**for this moment to arrive.**_

_**After tonight…**_  
_**Will you remember**_  
_**how sweet and tenderly**_  
_**you reached for me,**_  
_**and pulled me closer?**_  
_**After you go…**_  
_**will you return to love me?**_  
_**Baby, will you return to love me?**_  
_**After the night becomes the day…**_  
_**After tonight begins to fade...**_


	41. Chapter 7D: Seamus & Lavender

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**CeriseAnouk **__recommended the song, __**"**_**Radar**_**" by Britney Spears **__for Seamus & Lavender this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Lavender's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**CeriseAnouk **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK to: **_**rzzmg at yahoo dot com.**_

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter, folks?**

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN (#4): Seamus & Lavender**

The confident high that Lavender had felt from the last action round faded the moment she stepped into the private room she shared with Seamus and shut the door behind her. Truthfully, she was feeling uneasy after that last question round. Not with Sea's answer, because Parkinson was _obviously_ smitten with Ron, so there was no competition there, but with her partner's reaction to _her_ response. His jealousy of Zabini was already well-established by their last discussion on the topic of the Slytherin's role in her sexual education, but her compelled answer by the last question card had obviously just thrown more kindling on that fire.

She'd felt Sea tense-up next to her when she'd revealed Blaise's name as her choice for some kinky spanking, and known the smile he'd given her afterwards to try to reassure her that he'd taken no offense had been faked. He hadn't uttered a word as they'd stood up at the end of the question round, and he'd loosely held her hand between the couches and here, their replica Gryffindor common room. Now, he was standing before the fireplace half way across the room from her, one hand rammed into a pocket of his trousers, the other tapping his wand against his outer thigh, eyes staring at the magically lit flames in silent contemplation.

Unsure if it was the right move or not, she tried for a distraction: "My card," she began, and read it off for him:

_**DEED: Your partner has to wank you off with their hand, while you go down on them.**_

That sounded close to the card she'd had to perform on him two rounds ago… but hadn't it only said the first part, and not the 'go down on them' requirement? She could have _sworn_ that was the case. Maybe this was someone else's requirement and they were just really close?

Her sexy Irish didn't reply to her attempt to draw him out, still focused on whatever inner demons were bothering him.

"W-what does yours say?" she prompted, trying a more direct route.

Seamus lifted the rectangular piece of wax-laminated cardboard and read off its obligation:

_**DEED: Lick any one part on your partner's body. Your choice.**_

So, he'd both give and receive a reciprocal amount of pleasure this round. Well, that sounded like a dual lottery win, yes? Then why didn't he look happy?

"Um, are you angry with me?" she dared to ask, swallowing around the painfully huge lump that had quite suddenly formed in her throat.

Those long-lashed, spring green-yellow eyes focused on her as he turned his head, and in them, Lavender could see a definite spark of displeasure. "Not at ya, no." His accent was thicker than usual. "At the question. Seemed ta want ta hurt us." His gaze returned to the flames and the wand tapped harder on his leg – an unintentional tell as to his aggravation. "Wonder who wrote such a nasty thang."

Lavender considered it. "Malfoy said it was someone who forfeited, but it doesn't sound like something Ginny would write. I don't think Ron would either, but I'm not sure about Pansy or… Blaise."

If she hadn't been looking so intently at his face just then, she would have missed the small tick of his cheek when she said her ex-lover's name. Her chest tightened up, and that hollow feeling in her stomach expanded. "Do you want to forfeit?" she asked, her tone meeker than she'd expected and wholly uncharacteristic.

What was happening here between them and why?

His eyes narrowed in thought and he shook his head. "No. I think… not yet, no."

What did he know that she didn't? Something was really bothering him, and she wasn't sure it was all about Zabini now. Was it the game? She'd felt troubled by that last question, too, but was that all there was to it? Twirling her card around and around in her hands with nervous anxiousness, she wasn't paying good enough attention and accidentally cut her finger on an edge. She hissed in surprise at the sharp bite and pulled her hand away. A thin line of blood welled to the surface. Shaking it made a few droplets splatter. Quickly, she sunk the cut finger into her mouth and sucked.

Seamus was at her side in an instant, pulling her hand from her mouth and applying a kerchief to it and holding it up above the level of her heart. Within a minute, maybe less, the bleeding stopped altogether and she could see the skin knitting on its own just fine. It hadn't been that deep a cut, and the sting was already going away.

"Healer Irish ta the rescue," he lightly teased, giving her a small smile meant to encourage.

Apparently, whatever mood had taken a hold of him had slightly evaporated the moment she'd been in mild distress. Thank the Founders for that small favor. Her nerves couldn't have taken the queer distance between them much longer.

He kissed her fingertip to ease the hurt and their eyes met as he glanced up, head bent over her covered digit. In the next instant, she was pressed against the stone wall and his mouth was on hers and… _oh Godric,_ could this man kiss! Hot, forceful strokes of his tongue caressed between the seam of her mouth and his lips were sealed to hers with force. It felt like he was boldly staking a claim on her. Maybe this was how he handled jealousy?

Long minutes later, he pulled back to kiss around her jaw, up and down her throat, and then to the whorl of her ear. There he paused. "Will ya do this round as _I _want, me sweet, sexy Angel?"

Circe's blood, was that _her _heart in her throat, pounding like mad?

"I need ya, Lavender. Say yes."

She nodded, shaking with anticipation._ Just keep talking to me like that and I'll do anything you want,_ she thought.

"Good girl," he purred, and pulled away, walking backwards until they stood before the hearth.

At his praise, her spine tingled with electricity again, as if she'd been the recipient of some sort of low, humming magic that caused her temperature to heat up and her body to start sweating. Hell, her knickers were decidedly damp already from it! It was that brogue of his, she decided – had to be. It had always made her wet. Something about his voice was enough to send her body screaming towards the edge of orgasm.

Sea conjured a soft, cushioned carpet under their feet, and then guided her down to her knees before him. Unbuttoning his white dress shirt with quick, nimble fingers and shucking it from his shoulders, he stared down at her with dark need. "Ya know what ta do, Lavender."

Wait, he wanted her to perform her card on him first? But, this was the perfect sequence of actions for a mutually-pleasurable '69' position – did he not see that?

How he was behaving felt… off. Lavender couldn't quite put her finger on it. Maybe the whole Zabini thing had _really_ shaken his confidence and she just needed to put him at ease. It was _him_ she wanted, not Blaise; she just needed Seamus to believe that. A good blow - where she showed him how much she loved _his_ beautiful, luscious cock - should be enough to reassure him.

She glanced up to take in the whole picture first, though. He was magnificent, bulging with beautiful, strong muscles, a light smattering of hair as black as coal ran across his chest and down the center to dip into the waist of his pants. All of those years of intense Quidditch training had paid off in a chiseled body of perfect, very masculine proportions. On his right bicep was a four-leaf clover tattoo in green ink; she couldn't help but smile every time she caught that ode to patriotism.

_Want more_, the thought came unbidden in her mind. _More, more, more. _

With racing blood and impatient hands, she reached for his belt buckle and unlatched the clasp, pulling it free. Her fingers popped the button on his slacks and brought the zip down. Yanking his trousers and pants down to his ankles, she bared him fully. He was already hard and _huge_. At eye-level with his penis, it seemed even larger than before - and certainly a more daunting challenge. How was she ever going to take this monster into her mouth? His width would uncomfortably stretch her, and she'd be lucky to get even half of him inside before he hit her throat.

Steeling herself, she gently gripped him. Above her, Sea's breath exploded from his chest as he sighed in eagerness. Lifting the heavy, thick weight of his cock in her hand again, she stroked up and down as they had done two rounds earlier.

"Lick me first," he bid in a husky timber that had her nipples tightening in response. "Lick every inch, and kiss me sac."

Enthusiastically, she did as he wished, allowing him this small measure of control this time. When it was her turn, though, she was going to reassert her needs. A little give and take – switching off Dom/sub positions - wasn't such a bad thing, she was learning.

The tangy flavor of salt caressed her tongue as she ringed the engorged head and smoothed over the tip, combining his pre-come with her saliva. Running the gamut, she started over the top and lapped down towards the root. Twining around the heavy hilt, she stroked underneath, reversing course and coming up over the crest of him once more. Sea gasped and jerked in response.

"Suck me, love. Take me as deep as ya can go."

His lilt was really heavy, hardly recognizable as English, but she got the gist.

She repeated the action once, twice, coating him like she would a lollie, and then dipped underneath and licked at his bollocks. She took them into her mouth and rolled them around, gently sucking. He hissed with pleasure.

"Oh, yeah... like that."

She allowed her tongue to move him about her mouth, getting him nice and drenched before releasing them and lathing a path back up the underside. At his crown, she opened her mouth and fully took the width of his head inside. Her lover's thighs quaked and he moaned.

Godric, he was a fecking mouthful! Slowly, trying to relax her jaw and breathing through her nose, she dropped her tongue to the bottom of her palette and slid her head forward, taking more of him in. It was a struggle, as she had to calm her reflex and let him glide into her. She could deep throat only about seven or eight inches before she had to pull back. He was simply too large and even what she'd been able to do had been rather uncomfortable. Still, she did it again, sucking as well as rubbing with her fingers hard over him on the upstroke, using both to simultaneously pleasure him. She moved slowly, so as not to hurt her esophagus.

"Fuckin' hell," Seamus groaned. "Ya look so beautiful, Angel, with me cock in yer mouth. Do ya like this?"

His tone was softer, tender, like he'd been before this round. The relief was all-encompassing, and without thought, she nodded, willing to do what he needed.

Giving it her all, she utilized every trick she'd learned since she'd become sexually active to give Seamus the best suck of his life. Her tongue swirled in naughty patterns, twining around his length; she alternated speeds and suction, and let her fingers caress his balls and run through the surrounding crisp hairs. She stroked his perineum, and tightened around his shaft in sweeping motions guaranteed to stimulate him in different ways. He responded with eager growls and moans, and his hips swayed as he closed in on orgasm.

Tightening his grip in her hair, he pulled her off and up into his arms with an easy surge of muscle before she could bring him. His mouth found hers and they kissed with passion. Unsure of his intentions, she found herself quite unexpectedly on her back in the center of the gold satin-sheeted bed she'd conjured last round. Her knickers were torn down her legs, her dress pulled over her head, and her bra undone and tossed to the side quicker than she'd ever been able to undress herself.

Merlin, was he intending on...?

"No, no!" she panicked as he came over her and nudged between her legs. She clamped them shut, refusing him entrance. "Not yet."

Panting, his eyes glazed with need, he blinked down at her with confusion. "No?"

Swallowing back her fear, she tried to explain. "I-I want to explore you more. I want us to really enjoy each other before we go all the way. Sea, I'm... not ready for us to make love... yet."

He blinked twice before that glassy look faded and the light of reason appeared in his face. "Yer right, Angel. Want it good fer ya, slow and sweet - not hasty like this." He shut his eyes and hung his head, obviously trying to calm himself. "Sorry, I… I jus' want ya _so much_. I guess I got carried away."

Lavender sighed in relief. Disaster averted. "You know, if we combine our cards, there's a really fun thing we _can_ do together, though," she offered, not wanting him to go away from this experience disappointed. She needed to make things right between them again, knowing it had been her answer about wanting Zabini that had caused the strain to begin with. "Sixty-nine, Sea."

His head shot up and a slow, sexy smirk swept across that handsome face. "Swap places wit' me, yeah?" His eyebrows playfully waggled at her.

Now, this was more like it!

They squirmed around each other until they were in the proper position: she kneeling over him, her pussy positioned right over his chin, him lying under her, his cock in her face. She looked down the line of her body to see him grin like a boy in a candy store as he reached up to grip her hips and guide her down to his mouth. She took his substantial length in hand and stroked him back up, dipping her lips to suckle his crown.

They met their goals at the same exact moment and filled the air with a simultaneous moan.

His devilish tongue traced patterns around her pre-moistened, lower lips. He suckled and kissed every inch of her most sacred part. Lavender tried to focus on giving him pleasure again, repeating many of the same moves as earlier, only backwards this time - which turned out to be more challenging. However, it was hard to concentrate on her task given how talented he was in the game of oral pleasuring. Gently nipping her clit sent electric shocks racing down her thighs. Lavishing long licks down her seam and rimming her entrance with his tongue had her arching her spine. When he repetitively impaled her with that pink length, curling the tip on that spot that was guaranteed to bring her quickly, she tightened up. Her body quaked for release, and she sped up the pace of her sucking and stroking him, hoping they'd find relief together.

Seamus bent his knees and began fucking her mouth by lifting his pelvis as she came down on him. This allowed her to free the hand that had been gliding up and down, so she used it to caress his sac again, teasing over that spot directly underneath that made him shudder and pump harder. Humming as he thrust upwards with increasing need, she felt the spurts of his pre-come across her tongue and found her mouth watering to discover how his semen tasted.

_Yes, come for me, my Sea! _

Her own orgasm fast approached as he cheated and used his thumb to caress quick circles across her clit. Alternating between lapping at her and stroking into her was what ultimately did her in. With a wail around a mouthful of cock, Lavender came for him, her thighs shaking from the force.

He fucked harder and faster between her lips, moaning as he drank up the flood of her juices, holding onto her hips with almost bruising force to keep her still. "Oh, fuck!" he grunted against her labia, teetering on the edge himself and reaching desperately for his ending. It came as she swiped down him a final time. "Lavender… _me Angel!_" he cried out as he erupted deep into her mouth. Hot semen burst across her tongue and into the back of her throat. He tasted as delicious as she'd imagined – rich and creamy. She dropped as far down on him as she could and sucked until her cheeks hollowed, continuing to milk him of his seed. "Fuck!" he shouted, clearly not expecting such pleasurable inspiration, and jacked up into her again, filling her mouth with even more semen. It was too much; she swallowed what she could, but a dribble of milky-white fluid escaped her lips to run down her chin.

When he collapsed back, panting, and the last of his issue was licked away, she wiped her chin, turned around and snuggled up to her man, savoring his flavor in her mouth. His arms enclosed about her, holding her tight and he sighed a deep, ragged breath of contentment.

"_That_," he tiredly stated, "was the hardest _I've_ ever come. I saw stars, Angel. Serious."

Lavender felt rather proud of that admission. _She'd done to him what no other woman had – blown his mind._

He held her in silence after that, and at first Lavender thought he was back to brooding. Then, he shifted a bit and let out a light snore. Covering a giggle with her hand, she tried to remain quiet, allowing him this brief rest. He'd come a few times during this game already, and although she'd gotten a cat nap last round, she knew he hadn't. Plus, it was somewhere around three in the morning now. Poor sweetheart must be exhausted.

Looking up into his face, she saw the lines of strain about his eyes and wondered what they might be caused by. Was it because of her? Or was there something else bothering him? Why had he withdrawn from her earlier this round?

Very gently, she laid her head upon his chest and listened to his strong heartbeat and let it lull her into that dreamy state between waking and full rest, refusing to let her inner worries ruin this moment of perfect peace. She let it be, enjoying being held, finding that she liked the way they fit so perfectly together.

Fifteen minutes later, his hand stroked down her arm, and she opened her eyes to full wakefulness. "Don't move yet," he requested, running light fingers down her side, stroking past her nipple on the way back up, over her throat and across her shoulder. "I'm likin' the feel o' ya against me like this."

Yes, she could tell that by the semi-hard length pressing into her belly.

"I've got the taste o' ya still in me mouth," he hummed in satisfaction. "Jimmie, but I love the favor o' yer cunnie." Bending his head and pressing his lips to her ear, he smiled. "I'm gonna fuck ya soon, Angel. _Verra_ soon." It was a dark, whispered promise, given right as he pinched her nipple with just the right pressure.

Lavender gasped and he captured her lips with his own, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and sharing the lingering flavor of her salty, musky release.

The chimes picked that inopportune moment to ring out.

With a sigh of disappointment, Seamus let her go, and they scooted off the bed to collect their clothing and redress. When they were both decent enough to go out to see the others again, he grabbed her about the waist to prevent her from leaving right away. "Ask me a quick question, Sweet Lass," he murmured softly against her cheek. "I promised ya one each round."

Lavender bit her lip, unsure if she should bring up the question she really wanted to know – that was, why he'd been moody earlier. Instead, she took what seemed to be a 'safe route' and asked what she believed to be a relatively benign question.

"What are your plans for after graduation?"

Seamus tensed up, which made things inside her go on high alert.

"I'm… gonna have ta… go back home… ta Ireland," he hesitantly admitted. "There are… things… I have ta take care of there. Family things."

His accent had gone very thick, and she knew this issue was distressing to him. Were his parents and family unwell? Was there some financial or medical reason he needed to be back there with them? And what did his leaving England - where _she_ lived - mean for their new relationship? All of this whirled through her mind in an instant.

Seamus sighed. "I'll explain it all ta ya soon, me love. Trust me, yeah? The second chime's gonna ring in a minute, though, so we should go."

Lavender let him rush her to the door. "But you didn't ask me _your _question," she realized.

Her lover paused with his hand on the door knob and looked not at her, but at the wooden frame in front of him with something akin to resignation in his eyes. "Will ya promise ta listen ta me when it's time ta explain?"

Whatever he had to tell her, she somehow knew was going to be big, and quite possibly bad, too. She wondered if this was what had been burdening him earlier. Honestly, it frightened her a little. Was it bad enough to make her hate him again?

_Can you really trust him?_

Summoning her Gryffindor courage, she gave him honesty. "I can try, Sea."

He nodded, his expression carefully guarded. "That's all I can ask of ya."

Turning the knob, he opened the door for them just as the second chime rang out. For the first time in the game, they were the last couple to make it back into the main room.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Musical Selection for this Chapter:**_** "Radar" by Britney Spears. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**Confidence is a must.  
Happiness is a plus.  
Edginess is a rush.  
Edges, I like them rough.**_

**_A man with a Midas touch._**  
**_Intoxicate me, I'm a rush._**  
**_Stop, you're making me blush._**  
**_People are looking at us._**

**_I don't think you know, know…_**  
**_I'm checking you so hot, so hot._**  
**_Wonder if he knows, he's on my radar._**  
**_On my radar, on my radar, on my radar._**

**_And if I notice you, I know it's you._**  
**_Choosing, don't wanna losing you._**  
**_On my radar, on my radar._**  
**_On my radar, on my radar._**

**_And when you walk (When you walk),_**  
**_And when you talk (When you talk),_**  
**_I get the tingle…_**  
**_I wanna mingle…_**  
**_That's what I want (That's what I want)._**

**_And listen baby, turn up the fader._**  
**_Trying to make you understand…_**  
**_You're on my radar, on my radar._**  
**_On my radar, on my radar, on my radar._**

**_Got you on my radar._**  
**_Got you on my radar._**  
**_Got you on my radar._**

**_Interesting sense of style._**  
**_Ten million dollar smile._**  
**_Think I can handle that._**  
**_Animal in the sack._**

**_His eyes see right to my soul…_**  
**_I saw and lose self-control._**  
**_Catch me looking again._**  
**_Falling right into my plan._**

**_I don't think you know, know…_**  
**_I'm checking you so hot, so hot._**  
**_Wonder if he knows, he's on my radar._**  
**_On my radar, on my radar, on my radar._**

**_And if I notice you, I know it's you._**  
**_Choosing, don't wanna losing you._**  
**_On my radar, on my radar._**  
**_On my radar, on my radar._**

**_And when you walk (When you walk),_**  
**_And when you talk (When you talk),_**  
**_I get the tingle…_**  
**_I wanna mingle…_**  
**_That's what I want (That's what I want)._**

**_And listen baby, turn up the fader._**  
**_Trying to make you understand…_**  
**_You're on my radar, on my radar._**  
**_On my radar, on my radar, on my radar._**

**_Got you on my radar._**  
**_Got you on my radar._**  
**_Got you on my radar._**

**_On my radar.  
Got you on my radar.  
Got you on my radar.  
Got you on my radar._**

**_I got my eye on you,_**  
**_And I can't let you get away._**

**_Hey baby, whether it's now or later…_**  
**_I've got you._**  
**_You can't shake me,_**  
**_'Cause I got you on my radar._**

**_Whether you like it or not, it ain't gonna stop,_**  
**_'Cause I got you on my radar (I got you)._**  
**_'Cause I got you on my radar._**

**_I'm checking you so hot, so hot._**  
**_Wonder if he knows, he's on my radar._**  
**_On my radar, on my radar, on my radar._**

**_And if I notice you, I know it's you._**  
**_Choosing, don't wanna losing you._**  
**_On my radar, on my radar._**  
**_On my radar, on my radar._**

**_And when you walk (When you walk),_**  
**_And when you talk (When you talk),_**  
**_I get the tingle…_**  
**_I wanna mingle…_**  
**_That's what I want (That's what I want)._**

**_And listen baby, turn up the fader.  
Trying to make you understand…  
You're on my radar, on my radar.  
On my radar, on my radar, on my radar._**

**_On my radar.  
Got you on my radar.  
Got you on my radar.  
Got you on my radar._**


	42. Chapter 7E: Ron & Pansy

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**Crissy Shadows **__recommended the song, __**"**_**Hot**_**" by Avril Lavigne **__for Ron & Pansy this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Pansy's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**Crissy Shadows **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK to: rzzmg at yahoo dot com.**

P.S. Short chapter this time, as these two are in a space right now that is less about talking and more about action. That'll change in future chapters, but for now, the important stuff had to be said and done here.

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter, folks?**

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN (#5): Ron & Pansy**

With a heavy sigh of satisfaction coupled with exhaustion, Ron's heavy weight collapsed on top of Pansy, squashing her face into the mattress. "Oof!" she huffed, turning her head so she could breathe. "You weigh a ton!"

She could feel her lover's face stretch into a smile against her shoulder. "It's all my manly muscles, baby," Ron teased in between panting breaths.

Tiredly, she giggled, and he rolled off onto his back, causing the bed to dip next to her. Deliciously sore all over, she gently removed the sex jewelry from her aching nipples and clit. "I wonder what time it is."

Her lover snorted. "Time for another Restorative. I think we've shagged through most of the last one already."

He was probably right. They'd enjoyed quite a romp after making the decision to stay together. It seemed the idea of her leaving him for another man had done wonders for his libido. He'd tortured her insanely with the vibrating wands and jewelry, making her sweat and orgasm almost continuously. Then, he'd rode her hard and come in her twice.

Her hand hesitated over her lower abdomen, stroking over her womb. Was it possible that she'd conceived already? Hadn't she read somewhere that it could happen in an hour's time? But it hadn't quite been that long since he'd ejaculated into her, and she wasn't sure that the Contraceptive and Disease Charm hadn't interfered as the spell usually took a bit to wear off, its lingering effects varying from person to person. It was possible she was still under its sway even now from the last time she'd cast it.

No, most likely she wasn't pregnant yet.

"Boy or girl?" she suddenly wondered. "If you could pick, which would you want first?"

Ron opened his mouth as if he already had a definitive opinion on the matter, and then clamped it shut, staring at the white ceiling in serious deliberation. "I think I'd want a girl – with your good looks and smarts, but with my Quidditch skills."

That _did_ surprise Pansy. Most pureblood males wanted a like-gendered heir above any other priority, and they always wanted it to take more after their physical characteristics (it was hubris to the max). She knew the elder Malfoys had pretty much laid it out for her that they were _expecting_ a clone of Draco in a grandchild. Thank Salazar that marriage contract had been broken!

"Why?"

His smile was slow and a gentle blush swept up his cheeks. "Well, 'cause then she could break hearts everywhere she went, _and_ break heads on the Quidditch pitch and in the classroom."

Pansy turned on her side to face him. "No, I mean why wouldn't you want her to have your coloring?" She reached out and stroked through his ginger hair. "It's beautiful, and your eyes," she stared into those cerulean depths and sighed with desire, "they're gorgeous."

Her lover's cheeks positively rouged, highlighting his freckles. "Well, because…" Thick, scarred fingers played through her straight, chestnut strands. "I think you're really beautiful, Pans. Your dark hair and eyes, well, they capture me. Like, it's hard for me to look away." His eyes widened a fraction of an inch as he took her all in, the pupils dilating. "You're perfection. I want our baby girl to be just like her mum in that way. I want everyone to look at her and say, 'look at how pretty their daughter is - see, they _were _meant to be together.'"

She considered his words very carefully. "You're worried we won't be accepted outside of here."

Ron nodded. "No one will get us, especially with our past and you coming from a rich family and all."

A secondary thought followed-up the first. "You don't think you're good enough for me?" When her lover didn't reply and dropped his eyes to her chin, it was as if a window opened up in her mind and for the first time, she could see him clearly. She touched his cheek, made him meet her gaze. "Ron, let me tell you a secret: until you, no man has ever truly cared for me – not even my father. At least, not enough to be fully decent towards my feelings. Even Draco used me, although he's the best of the lot and has actually tried to atone since." That familiar tightness in her chest made her breath hitch, but she marshaled on. "Every wizard in my life has wanted something from me on _their_ terms. My needs were always discounted. I've been little more than a tool for their scheming. But you-" She gently ran her fingertips over his lips. "You consider my feelings. You freely give to me, and you're honest with me. You respect me." An uncontrolled quivering began in her bottom lip. "You're the most worthy man I've ever known. So, if anyone isn't good enough in this relationship, it's me."

She bit her bottom lip, frightened to go on, but too anxious not to. A bundle of crackling, painful energy spun behind her ribs, desperately needing an escape route. She opened her mouth and gave it a way out, spilling her thoughts in a very un-Slytherin fashion. "If anything, _I'm_ the selfish one here, asking you to tie your life up to get me out of a bind. A child is a seriously big deal – it's for life, not just a few years. It's going to change everything for both of us. I'm afraid of that kind of responsibility. I'm afraid of what the world will think of us starting a family together, too. But mostly, I'm afraid I've cocked up your plans for the future you wanted to carve out for yourself, and that someday you'll resent me for this. I don't think I could live if you went back to hating me again."

He adamantly shook his head. "Pans, I can't explain it, but I _want_ this. I want you. I didn't even realize how much until you asked me about the baby's gender." He rubbed his hand over her tummy. "The idea of you at my side, carrying my child, having _my_ baby… it… well, hell, check it yourself." He pulled her hand between his legs and let her feel his rock-hard cock. "I had plans, sure, but I know if I were to give you up for them, I'd regret it the rest of my life." He shrugged one massive shoulder. "So, I'll make new plans – with room enough for all three of us. It'll be work, but as long as you promise to love me, I promise you we'll make it."

Knotted so emotionally close to him in that moment, feeling his softly exhaled breath across her face and the warmth from his skin radiate outward to envelop her, Pansy's sexual hunger crawled its way through her lower body once more. Taking his length firmly between her fingers, she stroked up and down. "Do you think I'm pregnant yet?" she asked, her voice gone husky with need.

Ron's hand joined hers in its stroking, the flame of desire lighting across his face and gathering as tension in his muscles. "Don't know. We're probably going to have to do it a lot, though, just to make sure," he tried for serious, but the playful gleam in his eye told a different story altogether. Apparently, he was looking forward to burning through whatever remained of the Restorative Potion in their blood as much as she was.

"Oh, the horror," Pansy dryly mocked, a sultry smile easing up her cheek. "Boinking you for hours on end. I don't think I'll survive it. I might even need therapy later."

Pulling her into his arms, Ron rolled them so she straddled his waist, and nestled his valiantly-stirring cock between her thighs. A shite-eating grin stretched his face from ear to ear. "Yeah, _physical_ therapy from all of the contortions I'm going to put you through." He raised his lips to her ear, his hot breath shooting across her pulse, causing butterflies to erupt inside her stomach. "I'm gonna fuck you endlessly, Pansy, in every way I can think of." His hips gyrated against hers in a slow, teasing manner, pressing the base of his shaft right up against her moist clit. "I'm gonna love you with every inch of me." He pressed kisses along her throat, and slid his hardened penis through the seam of her lower lips. She adjusted the angle of her thighs so he could easily slide into her whenever he wanted. "When the game ends, I'm not gonna stop. I'm gonna keep doing this to you forever." He worked his way up her jaw to poise above her lips. "'Cause you're _mine._ Got that?"

Staring into his heated gaze, Pansy knew just the right thing to say to motivate her Gryffindor lover's affections. "Prove it."

With a rumbling growl in his throat, Ron gripped her hips and glided his cock into her again, moving with slow insistence.

Ooooh, she was sore – gods, his width stretched her out, causing her to wince – but it was a good hurt.

"Okay, baby?"

His concern for her brought tears to her eyes again. "Don't stop, Ron. Never, _ever_ stop."

Pulling her head down, he captured her lips and continued joining them until their bodies fully met, and then he made love to her with deliberate care while whispering into her ear how she felt surrounding his shaft, how much he loved doing this with her, how beautiful she was to him. She came, he held off, rolling her onto her back. Mounted over her, he continued the easy glide, taking his time and enjoying their coupling. With clever strokes across her clit, he brought her again minutes later.

"Fuck me," she begged in a hoarse plea. "Deep and hard, like I know you want."

He obeyed without question, his pace promptly speeding up, much like a prize thoroughbred's on the track during the final stretch. He pounded into her with an animal's grace and strength, his powerful muscles straining, shifting under her fingers as he shagged her with almost violent need.

Oh, she was going to hurt from this, but gods, she didn't want it to stop!

His spine went rigid, and he called her name and threw his head back as he slammed into her a final time and held still, exploding into her with a relieved shout. As he collapsed atop her in exhaustion when he was emptied, she prayed for a little girl with her hair and his eyes – a compromise for them both.

"I love you, baby," he murmured with a kiss against her neck, panting. "Love you to the end."

Cradling him close, Pansy's fast-beating heart stole her breath, so when she whispered her reply, it was into his ear. "I love you, too. Always, _always,_ no matter what.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

_**Musical Selection this Chapter: "Hot" by Avril Lavigne. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**You're so good to me, baby, baby!**_

_**I wanna lock up in my closet when no one's around.**_  
_**I wanna put your hand in my pocket because you're allowed!**_  
_**I wanna drive you into the corner, and kiss you without a sound.**_  
_**I wanna stay this way forever - I'll say it loud!**_

_**Now you're in and you can't get out!**_

_**You make me so hot, make me wanna drop.**_  
_**It's so ridiculous, I can barely stop.**_  
_**I can hardly breathe. You make me wanna scream:**_  
_**"You're so fabulous! **_  
_**You're so good to me, baby, baby!**_  
_**You're so good to me, baby, baby!"**_

_**I can make you feel all better - just take it in!**_  
_**And I can show you all the places you've never been.**_  
_**And I can make you say everything that you never said.**_  
_**And I will let you do anything, again and again.**_

_**Now you're in and you can't get out!**_

_**You make me so hot, make me wanna drop.**_  
_**It's so ridiculous, I can barely stop.**_  
_**I can hardly breathe. You make me wanna scream:**_  
_**"You're so fabulous! **_  
_**You're so good to me, baby, baby!**_  
_**You're so good to me, baby, baby!"**_

_**Kiss me gently…**_  
_**"Always," I know.**_  
_**Hold me, love me…**_  
_**Don't ever go!**_

_**You make me so hot, make me wanna drop.**_  
_**It's so ridiculous, I can barely stop.**_  
_**I can hardly breathe. You make me wanna scream:**_  
_**"You're so fabulous! **_  
_**You're so good to me!"**_  
_**You make me so hot, make me wanna drop.**_  
_**It's so ridiculous, I can barely stop.**_  
_**I can hardly breathe. You make me wanna scream:**_  
_**"You're so fabulous! **_  
_**You're so good to me, baby, baby!**_  
_**You're so good to me, baby, baby!"**_

_**You're so good!**_


	43. Chapter 7F: Draco & Hermione

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**flybynight088 **__recommended the song, __**"**_**Beautiful Disaster**_**" by Kelly Clarkson **__for Draco & Hermione this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Hermione's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**flybynight088 **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK to: rzzmg at yahoo dot com.**

P.S. **THANK YOU, UNSEENLIBRARIAN, FOR YET ANOTHER FABOO BETA JOB! **Couldn't do this without you, my dear!

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter, folks?**

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN (#6): Draco & Hermione**

Hermione looked from one end of the private suite to the other, considering the room's level of appropriateness for what she had in mind this action round. No, the wide-open dance club set wouldn't do. They needed a bit more intimacy, in her opinion. She'd have to wait to see what Malfoy's card was before changing the décor, of course, but she had definite ideas for what she wanted when he performed her card, and this room was _not_ it.

Brushing aside a stray lock of curly hair from her eyes, she traded off her magically-unique _trionfi _with Draco's. During the exchange, she accidentally sliced her thumb on the sharp edge of his card. Hissing with surprised pain at the feeling, she quickly pulled her hand away, absently noting that her blood streaked across the waxed surface. "Cripes," she swore, trying not to make a further mess, conjuring a handkerchief and wrapping it about her thumb to help staunch the insignificant cut.

Draco was immediately before her, holding onto her hand. "I didn't think the edges were that sharp," he confessed with some confusion. "Sorry, beautiful." He pressed his lips to the bound finger as if to kiss away the hurt. The gesture melted some of Hermione's lingering reservations, allowing him to burrow closer to her heart.

This was madness. Only eight hours ago, she'd sworn up and down that Malfoy would not get under her skin; that she would beat him at this game and teach him a lesson for the years he'd been cruel and disdainful of her and her friends. Now she was falling into a warm well of confusing, passionate feelings for him that had deep implications for her immediate – and possibly extended - future. "So many misunderstandings," she murmured under her breath as she watched him carefully dab at her slight injury with a tender care that she hadn't thought him capable of emoting before the game.

His eyes met hers, and she was speared upon their intensity again. "Between us?"

She nodded. "Why did it take us so long to get here?"

Malfoy stepped closer and she matched him move for move, magnetically pulled forward by the tether of her craving for him. He bent his head and slid his nose over her cheek, his lips a breath away from claiming hers. She wanted him to do it – to snog her until her mind went blank and her sanity drifted away on currents of desire. She wanted a repeat of last round, and for him to take them higher. She silently begged him in her mind and with her eyes to give it to her hard and without remorse, but he held back from joining them together, almost teasing, but with an edge of tenderness at the same time to take away the sting of rejection. "You weren't ready for me," he murmured, one hand languidly sliding over her hip, the other up the sway of her spine. "Would you have let me touch you like this last year, or even six months ago?"

There was no need to respond because it was true that she wouldn't have, and they both knew it. It took not being afraid of reputational consequences – something only a fast-approaching graduation date could have provided – for her to accept his challenge. She regretted the lost time, but as he'd said, she wouldn't have been ready to deal with her growing feelings for him in the face of practically an entire school against them. The stress of trying to defend her relationship outside of this setting, and under these circumstances would have been too difficult. That Harry, Ron and Ginny were all facing the same thing now made it somehow easier for her to accept that she was slowly but surely falling for Slytherin's Prince. It further set her at ease knowing that she could expect her friends to support her should she decide that she and Draco were good outside of school, too. She doubted that they would have thought so favorably of such a decision even three months ago.

He rubbed his nose up her jaw, the fringe of his soft bangs tickling over her skin. His lips hovered over her ear. "Read my card." The whispered proposal made her shiver with renewed desire. How easily this man could make her want! She willed her uninjured hand to lift his card. It was turned around, but she could read it nonetheless.

_**DEED: Give this card to your partner for their use. Partner #2 - you get to stare at and lightly explore with your fingers Partner #1's naked private parts. Penetration allowed. **_

Her mouth went dry.

Pulling back, Malfoy lifted her card and read it.

_**DEED: Your partner must do a seductive strip tease for you.**_

His eyes widened and that patented smirk of his slipped up his cheek. Hermione's heart tripled speed. Godric, there didn't seem to be an ounce of hesitation or mortification on his part in performing his action this round. His grey eyes practically sparkled with anticipation, in fact.

"Pans and Davis," he hummed with approval. "Well, well. Got to love Slytherin women, huh?"

She nearly fell over. "_Tracey_ wrote one of those?"

Draco held up the card in his hand. "She and I worked on a potions assignment together last year. Same printing style." He nudged his chin at the card in her hand. "And I know Pansy's handwriting anywhere. Her 'p's' are distinctive."

Hermione had to admit to some small measure of surprise at Harry's new girlfriend. Honestly, she hadn't thought the witch had it in her to write a dare so intriguing.

The _Deeds_ card was taken from her hand and both it and Draco's were tossed casually aside by her partner. In a blink and a blurring of color and motion, the room changed to her partner's silent wishes, and wouldn't you know it: Malfoy had the same idea as she about intimate settings.

It was the bedroom from her fantasy.

A soft, beige carpet covered the Gothic-Victorian floor of the room, matching the wall and ceiling. A single, large bed – the room's main focus - was positioned in the center, its wooden back built into the wall, the top of which touched the ceiling. It was designed in an Italian Renaissance style and draped with thick, crimson-gold-black patterned fabric. The bed was a sleigh style of sturdy, black-lacquered wood, and its sheets were made of sumptuous black satin. At the foot of the bed, where Malfoy was leading her now, a flat chaise lounger upholstered in plush, crimson velveteen sat. She assumed he intended on laying her back against its single raised side, but he didn't, leaving her in a seated position instead. To her right, a hearth was magically lit to give off the only light and heat in the room, creating a romantic ambiance. Draco scooted out of the way a single cozy chair upholstered in the same crimson velveteen, putting its back to the wall and creating a wider space before the bed for movement. A single window – the same she'd looked out of earlier – was to the right and slightly behind her, letting in slivers of moonlight. Its heavy drapes, made of the same fabric as covered the back of the bed canopy, created shadows throughout the room.

Standing before her without shame, Malfoy ran both hands along the side of his head, feathering his hair, throwing his head back and closing his eyes at the same moment. The action caused his chest to thrust forwards, and through his thin, summer shirt, she could see his nipples were tight. By his unspoken command, Muggle music filled the air – Ginuwine's "Tell Me Do U Wanna." He didn't sway or dance, but his actions matched the beat as he removed his fashionable necklaces, dropping them to the ground at his feet. His wrist bracelet was next, and then he kicked off his shoes. Fisting the hem of his shirt, he stared at her with lustful grey eyes, half-lidded, and slightly rouged cheeks.

Oh, God, he was really going to strip down to nothing, wasn't he? She was really going to see _every inch_ of Draco Malfoy without his clothes on!

It was hard to keep her heart from tearing through her skin, especially as his soft, cotton shirt slowly crawled over his solid abs and pecs, revealing his pale, defined torso. As it cleared his head and dropped to the floor, her breathing kicked into high gear. His pink-beige nipples were definitely hard, begging to be suckled. Her nails bit into the edge of the lounger as she clenched her hands to keep her body grounded in place.

With an assured saunter, he closed the distance between them. Stopping less than a foot away, his pelvis level with her face, he slid those long, pale fingers of his over his smoothed abdomen just as the vocals of the song asked a rather provocative question…

"_**Tell me, do you wanna get wild with me?"**_

Hermione watched his perfect hands as they unbuckled his belt, leisurely pulling it through each loop. When the light taupe leather was freed, he extended it to her in offering without a word. Her hands lifted of their own volition and took the strap, their fingers brushing in the exchange. A hot flash rolled through her body, making everything inside clench and her limbs tremble.

"_**Trust me, I'll give you what you want, baby,"**_ the singer promised. Malfoy's quicksilver eyes and naughty smile seemed to recite that same vow over and over as he held her stare.

With tantalizing motion, his fingers glided up and then back down his torso, this time straying further south to the button of his trousers. Her gaze couldn't help but track the movement and be captivated by the popping of the metal fastener and the slow unzip that followed. Draco worked the ivory-white cotton unhurriedly over his hips and down his thighs. He let gravity take them to his ankles, allowed her a moment to stare at the rather sizable bulge in his designer white briefs before bending to fully remove the slacks and his socks.

Pale, golden-blond hair decorated his alabaster legs, she noted, growing darker as it approached the apex of his thighs. Gods, he wasn't even fully erect, and he was already stretching the fabric of his pants! Hermione's grip on the belt tightened, until the stiff leather edge bit into her sweating palms.

"Touch me."

His tone was husky, suggestive of wicked pleasure, and utterly compulsory.

Leaving the belt lying across her lap, she gave into the need to do as he bid, lightly sliding her fingertips over his legs. The hairs were crisp, and the skin was soft, and the muscles underneath were hardened by years of climbing the mountains of stairs in this place. Gliding upwards, she encountered the bones of his hips, traced them through the briefs. Familiar already with his chest and abdomen, she concentrated instead on the part of him that she wasn't intimate with, stroking over the hard ridge of his penis through his clothing.

Malfoy's head fell back and he moaned a deep, growling noise in approval. The sound shot straight through her, emboldening her for further exploration. Dipping downward, she cupped the weight of his balls, rolled them once and found them to be hard with the need to ejaculate. "Take them off for me," she requested, sliding her palms over his upper legs and down to the backs of his knees. He jerked forward as she tickled him there, and groaned even as he eagerly reached his thumbs under the band of his pants and yanked them down, letting them drop and kicking them away. Fully naked before her for the first time, Hermione received quite an eyeful.

He was uncircumcised, as pale of tint as the rest of him. The tip was a darkening shade of pink as blood rushed into his cock, filling it and causing it to become fully erect. Jutting upwards in a perfectly straight line, he was long – at least seven to eight inches, and the girth was about the size of her wrist. The sack that hung below was perfectly shaped and drawn up tight. The hair was dark gold, the curls neatly trimmed.

Pansy had been right: Malfoy _was_ exquisite.

Reaching out to feel him for the first time, she paused, unsure and glanced up for approval. Her companion took her hand and guided it to his length. "Your card says you can explore me all you want." He wrapped her fingers about his thick shaft and held them still, letting her come to terms with what they were doing and with what she was touching. "I'm yours, beautiful. Have at."

He was warm and the surrounding flesh was soft, but underneath, he was harder than steel. The weight of him in her palm, the way his hips tilted forward with a tense desperation, the blush that tinged his cheeks and neck, creeping steadily lower… all of it was magnificent. His body, his eyes, his cock anxiously wanted her. They _surrendered_ to her. She had all the power over him she'd ever need.

She'd never been so turned on in her life!

Stroking up and down the mouth-watering length of him, she watched with a fixated fascination the expressions crossing his face as she sped up or slowed down. He was enraptured by her, enslaved to her whim, freely expressing his pleasure with parted lips and heaving chest and bucking muscles. She used his pre-come to lubricate the path of his ecstasy, making him gasp louder and jerk his pelvis in time to the rhythm she'd established. He steadied himself by placing one hand on her shoulder, and when his knees shook and threatened to fold, he straddled her on the lounger instead. Hermione scooted to accommodate him, resting her back against the solid wooden frame of the bed. His arms came up around her, caging her between as he gripped the baseboard for support.

His penis was so close; she could dip her head and take it between her lips if she wanted. Should she wait for that card or jump at the opportunity now? No, she wanted to see him come across his belly and all over her hand. The thought made things deep inside of her burn and constrict from the need.

Her free hand reached underneath and fondled his scrotum, and at the slight pressure, Malfoy exhaled a colorful profanity. "Fuck. Me. Merlin's rod, beautiful - don't stop, _please!_" The breathy awe in his tone made her realize just how unhinged she'd made him. Slytherin's Prince was truly all hers in that moment.

"Tilt your head up," he begged. "Let me kiss you."

Their mouths met and there was an explosion of feeling between them. Tongues entwined, moans and gasps uttered from both of them, and the pace of her hand sped up, matching their wild need for each other. His grip on the wood behind her tightened, making the frame creak as his hips wrenched forward, matching her pumping fingers. He bit her bottom lip as his breathing became as erratic as his jerking cock. Pressing his forehead to hers, he started talking in a rushed, impulsive release of thoughts and words. "Need you... I've waited so bloody long for you, Granger… _fuck_, feels so good… you unmake me… every _goddamned_ day, you've unmade me… Oh, gods, I'm close… Faster, yeah, don't stop… almost…" His hand on her head forced her to look down at where her hand was driving over his hot, straining flesh. He shoved through the tight canal of her fingers with such strength. "I've held off for two days just for this… watch me come for you, beautiful…"

Three more swipes over his taut length, and with a shout of her first name, he thrust a final time and burst into climax. Hot jets of creamy, white come shot out of the tip of him to splash upon his abdomen. A second and third and fourth eruption had his life-giving seed dripping all over her hand and down the spasming length of him to the chorus of his gasping cries. By the time he'd finished, Draco had drenched her lap. His legs were shaking from the force of his release and his forehead pressed into the dip of her shoulder as he tried to regain his sanity and strength, his breath a panting animal against her neck.

It seemed natural to invite him to actually sit upon her legs and let his big body relax into her embrace. His half-erect, soaking wet penis pressed into her tummy and she conjured a small, damp towel to quickly clean up her hands. Pressing kisses across his throat to reassure him that what they'd just done was amazing, she waited until his temperature cooled a bit and he'd reestablished equilibrium before applying light pressure to force him to lean away.

The front of them both was a mess, he more so than she. She ran that same cloth over his belly and his now-flaccid manhood, removing the sticky ejaculate, then attempted to wipe off what she could from her clothing.

"Sorry about that," he sheepishly drawled, and hid a yawn behind his hand.

Hermione matched his mischievousness with a smirk. "You don't _look_ very apologetic. In fact, I'd say you look rather smug."

Malfoy chuckled and gently tugged a curly strand of her hair in play. "I just had the hottest witch in the universe wank me off. Smug would be more than an appropriate reaction right about now, I think."

"Did you really wait two days to do that?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Distracted by the sight of his lovely cock, Hermione was taken by surprise when Draco's hands gripped her upper arms with strength and guided her onto her back across the lounger. Her head was propped up by the raised end rest and he leaned over her in a rather sexual pose. They stared at each other across the inches for several heartbeats, and it was then that she realized that the song had ended and there was only their breathing to fill up the silence of the room.

"I did," her almost-lover confessed. "I haven't touched myself for days in the hopes I'd get you for a partner for this game."

She raised an eyebrow with amusement. "Don't tell me you're into the masochist scene?"

His upper body dropped until their noses touched and he proceeded to go all serious on her. "I wanted you to be the one to bring me."

Her heart did the jackhammer trick again behind her ribs. "What if you hadn't gotten me for a partner?"

With all sincerity, he said the one thing she hadn't expected. "I'd have forfeited immediately, and figured out a way to get whoever did claim you for a partner to do the same as quickly as possible." He laid down between her thighs, resting at a mounted position at her core, the dress and her knickers the only barrier between them from engaging in actual penetrative sex. "And since I know you're going to ask: yes, Granger, I _did _set up this game specifically for us in the hopes of winning your attention… and hopefully, your affections. For that reason, I had no intention of being with anyone else – or letting you fall into the hands of one of the other men in the game."

A dark shadow passed through his face and pierced his gaze at that last, and she realized that Draco Malfoy had a serious jealous streak where she was concerned. "How long?" He blinked and frowned, clearly not understanding the question. "How long have you… um, well, _liked_ me?" she dared.

His eyes narrowed as he contemplated how much to tell her.

_How very Slytherin_, she couldn't help but think_._

"Fourth year," he finally admitted after an indeterminable amount of time had passed. "I told you already that you'd changed me as I watched you dance at the Yule Ball. That night, you made me want things for myself that I'd never thought possible, and forced me to see the world differently. I've doubted everything - my family, my friends and even my traditions – ever since. That night ruined me, and it remade me." He leaned down and kissed her very tentatively, even as he ran the backs of his knuckles against one of her cheeks. "I've wanted you since, my beautiful witch. I…" He clamped his lips together into a tight line, his expression telling that he'd felt he'd gone too far. "So, yes, since then," he stated, exercising great cautious restraint.

Hermione's heart lodged in her throat; she felt trapped not just by the cage of his body, but by the longing in his eyes. "But you had girlfriends-"

His firm shake of the head shut her down. "They weren't girlfriends. It was only sex."

She opened her mouth to refute, but realized that it was quite possible to have relations with another person without having any serious feelings for them; she'd done that with Charlie, hadn't she? Her conversational direction changed on the fly. "So you mean to tell me that you've only had romantic intentions towards me – for three and a half years and after bedding nine women?"

He shrugged. "It wasn't about emotionally investing in them, no."

"Why not?" The question slipped out before she had a chance to filter her big mouth. Now, she'd stepped in it. "Wha-what I mean… that is to say… surely, one of them was… er, _nice_. You know, likeable for more than just shagging." She tsked at her own ineptness. "Oh, fiddlesticks, you know what I mean!"

He remained quiet as he carefully considered how to respond again, his eyes assessing her mien for the answers to questions that seemed unfathomable to her. What exactly was he hoping to find in the set of her lips or in her eyes? Would what he did see change his reply?

When he eventually settled on an answer, she recognized in his expression that it wouldn't be the whole truth, as the corner of his lip twitched with barely-concealed amusement - which meant he planned to say something smart-arsed. "They were all nice, Granger," he teased with a leer. "But none of them had your charming ability to dive headfirst into trouble – in conversation or otherwise." He lowered his face again until his lips brushed hers. "I adore your reckless bravery, my little Gryffindor Princess. It gets me _über hard_." To prove his point, he dropped his mouth to hers and kissed her with a spicy passion, while at the same time, he rubbed his renewed erection up the middle of her covered slit.

Her hands dropped from his arms down to his waist, grabbing hold and pulling at the same time as she met his thrusting pelvis with her own. Her knickers were damp with arousal and her body was hungry for satisfaction. Just knowing that he was only two, thin sheets of fabric away from entering her…

"I want to feel you," she murmured between kisses, trying to coerce him into giving her the leverage to flip up her dress. "Against me. In me. _Please_, Draco."

Pulling his body off hers, he fiercely yanked her dress to her waist and undid one side of her knickers, freeing them. He yanked them to the side and dropped his cock into the cradle of her lower lips just as she bent her knees to give him the right angle. "I won't take you yet," he grit through clenched teeth. "I don't want that rushed and we're almost out of time. But, can you come for me like this?" He rubbed his solid length through her wet seam. "Oh, _fuck_…" he sighed with bliss.

Disappointed, she considered telling him to forget all about the stupid game and to just -

No, he was right. If they went all the way now, it would be rushed. Besides, they shouldn't go there yet. In the vaults of her heart, she'd vowed up and down to never again be a man's one-off; Charlie had left her with too many regrets and guilt. Still, here she and Malfoy were, rushing headlong into sex because she was pushing for it!

And to tell the truth, she felt strangely disconcerted by the fact that she was feeling… well, _disconnected_… from her rational self just then, acting primarily on biologic, bestial need. That wasn't usually like her, as she tended to temper passion with logic. True, finally orgasming with a man had done wonders for her sexual confidence and that could account for some of her loss of control, but tonight she felt queerly _off_, too, as if the floodgates that held her in check were slowly, one by one, eroding away.

But, oh, he was _right there_, the flared crest of his penis rubbing and stimulating her clit in just the right way. "Oh, God!" she moaned as he thrust with perfect pressure, causing electric shocks through her womb. She was going to come, and it was going to be explosive. Her fingernails dug into his arse as she drew him closer, forced him to push down harder. "I'm so close already," she murmured against the bottom of his jaw. "Please, please, _please_," she implored, her mouth running away from her.

Draco's lips were positioned right next to her ear as he began whispering sinful enticements. "Your pussy is so soft and wet, my princess. It feels so fucking perfect. I can't wait to taste you, to be up inside you, buried deep, to feel you come around my cock just as I come in you. I've waited forever to be with you like this, my beautiful, beautiful Hermione." He slid against her with increasing fervor. "Will you come for me, love? Come hard and cry my name."

Incapable of speech just then as she was concentrating everything she had on reaching for her ending, Hermione whimpered and nodded. Every muscle in her lower body tensed up and shook, and her heart slammed into her throat. Keening, mewling wails were drawn from her throat with each shove… and in a sudden detonation of sensation she was plummeting over the edge without a safety net. With a scream of Draco's name, she shattered.

Her lover held perfectly still as the warm rush of her orgasm flooded through her, leaving her boneless and fragmented and emotionally defenseless. She was crying and trembling, and she wasn't sure why. "I've got you, beautiful," Draco whispered in her ear, gathering her into his arms. "You're safe with me."

It took her several minutes to calm down, and then she was embarrassed by her outburst. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just… it felt so good and…"

Malfoy chuckled in her ear and pressed a kiss to her throat. "Third time's the charm, princess."

Wiping the tears from her cheeks, it took her fuzzy brain a moment to understand his meaning – that this was the third time she'd orgasmed for him. "Oh," she replied, blushing like some silly virgin for not having gotten the reference immediately. "I suppose so."

The chimes rang out, interrupting whatever conversation they were heading towards. Malfoy sighed. "Don't want to let you go," he murmured against her temple, kissing her.

She bit her lip, considered for one second the ramifications of her answer, and then blurted it out. "Yes."

Slytherin's Prince stiffened, leaned back and looked her in the eye. "Are you answering my question from last round, or was that an agreement to my sentiment of a moment ago?"

Staring up into those captivating grey-white eyes of his, Hermione took a deep breath and grabbed at her lion's courage. "Yes, to dating you after this."

He blinked once, his gaze searching her face again for those tell-tale signs of her intentions, and then he cracked a smile - a genuine one, not a smirk or a leer. The effect was stunning. His entire face positively beamed, as if she'd just given him the winning ticket to the lottery. Nodding once with finality, he sat up on his knees, using the strength in his arms and back to pull her with him. "You can't take it back," he mischievously grinned as he got to his feet and helped her up.

"I know."

Pulling her back into his arms, he leaned down and captured her lips again to seal the deal. The heat bloomed throughout her body – sexual and sensual and something rather close to loving. It melded with her bones, freeing her fears and allowed her to throw herself into the kiss. Against her belly, his still-hard erection rubbed, reminded her that he was partially unfulfilled. She'd brought him once, but clearly, his absentia from sexual release for the last couple of days left him randy and raring to go for round two. Perhaps next session she'd get a card to let her take care of that for him. The thought had her shivering in his embrace. Her nipples hardened and she was sure he could feel them crushed against his chest.

Hands roaming over each other from hips to back to neck, they kissed and kissed, neither wanting to let go. The wet smack of their pulls combined with their light moaning was loud in the silent room. He cupped her cheeks and rubbed his nose against hers to taper them off. He still had to get redressed, after all. "I'm going to spoil you, you know," he promised.

"Mmmm," she hummed with happiness, filled to bursting with sparking, rolling energy. "I heartily approve of that plan."

He laughed and it was a rich sound filled with delight. "Of course you do. You're the brightest witch of our age, I've heard tell." With a light whap on her backside, he stepped away. "Help me get my clothes back on before final chime."

She stretched his shirt back over his head and tugged it into place, but let him slip his trousers and pants back on. As she handed him his leather belt, though, he gave her a wicked smirk, and she felt her cheeks blossom crimson again at his silently implied ideas. There _were_ BDSM cards in the stack, she knew. The thought of tying him up and spanking him, or having him do that to her… She turned away, smoothing down her dress, feeling the wet spots all over it. "We're going to have to _Scourgify_ when we get out there. I'm covered by your… well, um, that is… by _you._"

Fully dressed again, Draco came around behind her and wrapped her up in a hug. "I could live with that idea."

She couldn't help it – she actually giggled. "Come on, Romeo. Let's not be late."

They held hands all the way out to the couches and as she bent to retrieve her wand. She cast the spell over them both to clean up, and they were good as new. Replacing her wand, she smiled up at him. "Well, time for the next question."

"Hmmm," he hummed with disappointment. "Not _quite_ yet. We've got a little more time."

In a quick move, he cupped her cheeks, bent his head and kissed her a solid one right there in front of everyone, even slipping her tongue! Hermione didn't mind in the least, uncaring whether anyone else was watching, too caught up in the feelings Malfoy made her experience. Man, could this wizard kiss!

As she pulled out of the PDA, she stepped back and turned around to resume her assigned spot on the couch, but wasn't paying close enough attention to her surroundings, and so tumbled head-long into Theo as he was scooting past. As her left heel gave out from under her, the two ended up clinging to each other to prevent a major fall. "Sorry!" she squeaked, and tried to apply pressure to her foot as she regained her balance, only to find it was a tad painful to do so.

Nott held her up with a solid set of hands on her waist, and kept her from an embarrassing collapse. "All right, Granger?" her ex asked.

In an instant, Draco was there, grabbing her away from his best friend and lifting her into his arms, bridal-style. He stepped back with her, putting distance between them, his expression dark. "I've got her," he bit, and it came out rather growly.

Theo's eyebrows shot up in surprise – as did Hermione's. Was Draco really _that_ covetous of her? "It was an accident. I wasn't watching where I was going," she tried to smooth things over, turning her head to address Theo. "Sorry about that." Nott shook his head, hands held up and palms out, as if to say, "no harm, no foul." He moved off, taking his slot on the sofa without further ado, his eyes wary of his friend.

She turned back to her partner, who was watching Theo through narrowed eyes. Turning his cheek, she forced him to meet her gaze and tried to convey silently with her expression that she disapproved of his insecurity. He frowned back.

The second chime rang out, and Seamus and Lavender's door opening broke the moment. Malfoy moved swiftly to the Gryffindor side of the room and gently placed her down on the couch in her designated spot. He bent and checked her ankle, grabbed his wand off the table and cast a healing charm over the bruise. Instantly, the hot throbbing went away. "Thank you," she acknowledged.

He nodded, put his wand back and stood to take his own seat. She reached out and grabbed his hand to delay him, hesitantly smiling up at her new boyfriend, trying to recapture their lightheartedness of earlier. "I meant what I said back in the room."

Draco looked down at her, the tension in his face and body relaxing in an instant, soothed, and he returned her smile. "Good. Me, too."

With that, their strange spat was over and he resumed his place alongside his remaining Slytherin teammates across the aisle. In Hermione's heart, though, she felt a strange sense of foreboding, not liking Malfoy's jealousy issues one bit. They were going to have to talk about this next round, it seemed

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Ginuwine's "Tell Me Do U Wanna" came out in 1996. It's really sexy, and I recommend you give it a listen!**

**PDA = Public Display of Affection.**

_**Musical Selection for Chapter: "Beautiful Disaster" by Kelly Clarkson. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**He drowns in his dreams.**__**  
**__**An exquisite extreme, I know.**__**  
**__**He's as damned as he seems,**__**  
**__**and more heaven than a heart could hold.**_

_**And if I try to save him,**__**  
**__**my whole world could cave in.**__**  
**__**It just ain't right.**__**  
**__**It just ain't right.**_

_**Oh, and I don't know…**_  
_**I don't know what he's after.**_  
_**But he's so beautiful…**_  
_**Such a beautiful disaster.**_  
_**And if I could hold on**_  
_**through the tears and the laughter,**_  
_**would it be beautiful?**_  
_**Or just a beautiful disaster?**_

_**He's magic and myth -**_  
_**as strong as what I believe.**_  
_**A tragedy with**_  
_**more damage than a soul should see.**_  
_**And do I try to change him?**_  
_**So hard not to blame him.**_  
_**Hold on tight.**_  
_**Hold on tight.**_

_**Oh, and I don't know…**_  
_**I don't know what he's after.**_  
_**But he's so beautiful…**_  
_**Such a beautiful disaster.**_  
_**And if I could hold on**_  
_**through the tears and the laughter,**_  
_**would it be beautiful?**_  
_**Or just a beautiful disaster?**_

_**I'm longing for love and the logical,**_  
_**but he's only happy hysterical.**_  
_**I'm waiting for some kind of miracle.**_  
_**Waited so long…**_  
_**So long…**_

_**He's soft to the touch,**_  
_**but frayed - at the end he breaks.**_  
_**He's never enough,**_  
_**and still he's more than I can take.**_

_**Oh, and I don't know…**_  
_**I don't know what he's after.**_  
_**But he's so beautiful…**_  
_**Such a beautiful disaster.**_  
_**And if I could hold on**_  
_**through the tears and the laughter,**_  
_**would it be beautiful?**_  
_**Or just a beautiful disaster?**_

_**He's beautiful…**_  
_**Such a beautiful disaster.**_

_**Beautiful…**_


	44. Chapter 8: The 7th Question

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: Adele_Morgan **__recommended the song, __**"Words" by Anthony David & India Arie **__for this go around. So, this chapter is dedicated to Adele_Morgan - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK to: rzzmg at yahoo dot com.**

_**P.S. Unseenlibrarian**__ – A HUGE THANK YOU. This chapter would not have been half as funny without your suggestions and your excellent beta work! _

_**Folks, some of this chapter was co-written with Unseenlibrarian, so please remembered to thank her in your reviews! Without her, I think this chappy would have seriously flopped.**_

**PLEASE REVIEW, FOLKS! What did you think of this chapter?**

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_**CHAPTER EIGHT: THE 7th QUESTION**_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland**_

_**Room of Requirement**_

_**Sunday, June 14, 1998 (3:45 am)**_

When they were all seated in their proper places on the couches, Draco signaled Seamus to take the next _Interrogations_ card from the stack. The sofa dipped a bit as he leaned forward, jostling Lavender and causing Hermione to lean a tad in his direction. He pulled the next card, sat back and read it:

"_**If you had to pick one person that you would have to get drunk off your arse to sleep with, who would that person be?" **_

With his accent being thicker than usual, Theo asked him to repeat the question slowly, and he did, not taking offense. Everyone got it on the second go.

Play turned to Lavender first. She bit her bottom lip and considered it. "Are we talking only staff and students at Hogwarts, or others?"

"Well, since it's me card," Sea grinned, nonchalantly tossing the card onto the table and watching as it magically moved itself to the bottom of the pile. "I was thinkin' Hogwarts when I wrote it, but I'll leave the options open-ended. Ya can answer anyone."

Hermione's roommate's lips twisted and her face drew into some serious contemplation. "Snape," she finally decided. "He's so… scary… and _gross_. I've come across decomposed bodies that were less offensive."

Heads bobbed in agreement all around. Yes, their foul-tempered, greasy Potions Master could easily have been bottled up and sold as a popular sex repellent at market. However, Hermione could certainly come up with a few others who topped even him for the number one reason to take birth control.

When play moved to her, she made a 'weighing the balance' motion with her hands to either side as she tried to determine in her head which fellow was the worse of the two she'd felt were tied for top slot in the 'do not shag under pain of utter humiliation' category. "Hmmm… I can't decide between Crabbe or Goyle."

Across the way, Draco snorted. "Not much difference there - either's a rot choice."

Hermione gaped at him. "Fine, I'd pick Crabbe. But… but they're supposed to be your good mates!"

Her partner coolly shrugged and looked down at his nails, picking at them. "I haven't hung around with them much since sixth year, as I don't care for their abiding and misguided loyalty to all of that blood status nonsense."

No one said a word, and it seemed as if the very air had just been sucked out of the room. Hermione's heart pounded a mile a minute under her ribs. Malfoy had just openly declared himself no longer a follower of pure-blood devotion.

Harry turned to her. "What is this - _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_?" he snickered. "Or are you just rubbing off on him in the right way?"

Aware that her partner most likely wouldn't take the comment in the joking spirit it had been given, Hermione decided to play it off. Fluffing her hair in an exaggerated vanity, she threw a red-faced Draco a sultry wink to try to calm his temper. "It's all me, Harry. I'm just that fantastic at the rubbing thing." She grinned at her partner and let her eyes roam him from top to bottom, diverting his attention with a seductive smile as she reached for a red action card. "I'm enjoying every minute of it, too."

Beside her, Lavender laughed. "Why, Hermione Granger, I do believe you've finally gotten in touch with your inner slag!"

"It's about time!" Ginny replied from the open door of her room as she stepped out. She appeared in a long, secured robe – obviously conjured – and waved to everyone. "Loo break," she announced with a giggle. "Don't mind me." She crossed the room and headed into the girl's. A moment later, Blaise appeared in a masculine version of Gin's robe and headed into the men's. He smirked and nodded his head in 'hello' to Malfoy on his way through the room, but didn't utter a word otherwise. The heady scent of sex trailed after both of them.

"Holy shite, did you see his neck-?" Lavender began, but Sea clapped a hand over her mouth and pulled her against him.

"Gossipin' ain't good fer the soul, Angel," he chastised, but ruined the effect by turning her into him and planting a kiss on her nose. "'Sides, I don't think I like ya lookin' at any part o' Zabini."

She frowned at him, her pride clearly stung. Firmly, she removed her partner's hands from her person. "I don't recall having to ask permission from you for anything, Finnegan."

His downturned mouth matched hers now. "And I don't like me woman staring at an ex o' hers like he's some tasty piece o' meat," he growled.

Godric's bane, was jealousy an infectious disease all of the sudden? For the past few rounds, everyone – _especially_ the men – seemed to be catching…

Her gaze flew to the cards on the table before her, her suspicions reigniting. They weren't glowing, sparking, sputtering or otherwise changing color, as many magical objects – like wands or enchanted jewelry – tended to do when they were used, however. Yet, she also knew from the rules that the game's magical contract – made in advance by all of them when they'd written their names on the _Partners_ cards - had significant influence over the truthfulness of their answers when any of the players chose to reply to an _Interrogations_ question, rather than dodge it. They also knew that without express permission in advance, players couldn't touch or harm each other outside of a _Deeds_ or _Forfeits_ card's allowance. So, clearly the game had some powerful sway over the group's physical and mental processes.

But how far did that reach extend exactly?

Specifically, were the cards intentionally inciting emotional responses from the players and if so, for what purpose? Or were the odd outbursts she'd been noticing from the other contestants over the last few hours – everything from fast-burning sexual attraction to green-eyed anger to immense sorrow – simply a by-product of the game forcing couples to interact, of painful or scary truths being revealed, and of guards dropping as people's exhaustion slowly began to take its toll?

A part of her itched to pick up her wand and try a few spells upon the deck to reveal a table of contents of its magical attributes, but the voice of reason in the back of her head chastised such paranoia. After all, would Madam Aset have _really_ been foolish enough to give a client of hers a dangerous magical game - especially given the Malfoy family's financial and political backing? That would be simply folly.

As Hermione contemplated that question, Captain Harry put an end to their teammates' bickering. "So, it's my turn right?" he clapped his hands together, rubbing them and gave a lopsided grin. "Right, I've given it some serious thought: I don't care how drunk you got me, you couldn't _pay_ me to shag Percy Weasley. He's always been and always will be a _total _prat."

Just like the, the mood in the room lightened. Lavender and Sea glowered at each other, but backed down, and everyone else thought Harry's comment just too amusing. Malfoy snorted, Theo nodded his head with a smirk, and Daphne cleared her throat, too polite to outwardly comment (but her look said it all). They'd all had some exposure to Ron's older brother when he'd served as Prefect during their first and second years at school, and then as Head Boy during their third year. He'd made enough of a bad impression over that time - handing out more detentions and docking more House points than any Prefect or Head Boy in modern history - to cause people to _still _wonder how that fat head of his fit through doorways.

Drawn out of her gloomy deliberation, Hermione laughed at her friend's cleverness. Like Greengrass had last round, Harry had found a way around the cards' gender ambiguity for the sake of a joke while remaining truthful at the same time.

Harry indicated that he was passing the torch onto Theo for his turn by reaching for a red card.

"Right, so where do I start the list?" her ex teased, leaning back in the cushions of the sofa, crossing his legs and smirking. "Shite, there are loads of people I'd never want to shag unless I was too wasted to know better. I mean, who'd willingly fuck Moody? Gods, I'd be creeped out to have that eye of his zeroed-in on my pecker. And Pince is probably as dried up and crusty as an ancient scroll of parchment. And shite, could you see anyone seriously wanting to fuck Dumbledore - Old Twinkly Eyes? Gives a whole new meaning to the idea of 'penetrating stare'."

Daphne slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle, but quickly regained her composure. She sniffed, adopting her normally disinterested air. "An intriguing list, but I believe the card required you to name your top choice. Compelled thusly, whom would you choose? I am curious to know what one individual in the whole of the galaxy holds no sexual interest for _you_, Theo."

Leaning across the space between them, Nott pressed a quick kiss to his partner's cheek while goosing her side. "It turns me on when you're cheeky, you know," he grinned, reaching for a _Deeds_ card. "Alright, then Pince it is. _That _is one kitty I wouldn't slap for all the Firewhisky in Scotland."

Adjusting her glasses on her nose, Daphne shook her head. "I would choose Mr. Hagrid," she stated with a small shudder.

Everyone left in the room simultaneously groaned with revulsion at the thought of having sex with the half-giant.

"I'm officially vomiting on my shoes," Lavender stated, looking green around the gills.

Harry looked ready to purge his guts, too. "You and me both."

"What, Potter?" Draco slyly grinned at his long-time rival. "The winner of the Bigfoot Look-Alike Contest not on your 'to do' list this year?"

Harry stared evenly at him for a millisecond. "Nope, this season I'm into tall, pale and overly-obsessed, wanna-be Veela. Hook me up?"

Malfoy chuckled and conceded the round to Gryffindor's Captain with a slight bow of his head. "You're next Davis," he verbally nudged his teammate.

Play moved to Tracey as Daphne took her action card. The Slyther-Puff, as Hermione was now wont to consider her, was biting her lip. "Um, I'm going to pick Filch. I just can't see-" She stopped her mouth by pursing her lips together. Blushing bright red, she reached for a matching-colored card on the table before her. "Yeah, him. Yuck!"

Harry seriously gagged, putting a hand over his mouth. Lavender mimicked him. Even Hermione had trouble keeping it down at the thought of shagging the nasty caretaker.

Theo snorted, making a face, and wondered aloud, "You know, I've heard rumors about Filch and Pince having a thing for each other. Can you imagine the two of them getting it on in the library stacks after-hours?" Hermione winced at the mental image that conjured, shaking her head, hoping to clear that unwanted vision. "Oh, wait, Pince probably has to share Filch with Mrs. Norris, doesn't she?" Nott went on, his face lighting up with inspiration. "But, hey, talk about your ménage a trois! Now he'll have _two_ pussies sinking their claws into him!"

Tracey passed a throw pillow to Daphne. "Do you mind doing the honors?"

Daphne smirked. "Not at all."

She wacked a laughing Teddy over the head with the cushion for good measure then handed it back to Davis.

"Thank you," Harry's girlfriend grinned, placing the small, square pillow upon her lap.

Greengrass adjusted her glasses, acting as if she hadn't just playfully assaulted her beau. "You're quite welcome."

Just then, Blaise and Ginny walked past the couches to head back to their private room, walking comfortably hand-in-hand. The two had a weird inner-glow about them, as if they were contented and truly happy. "There's someone out there for everyone," Ginny snarked, having overheard the conversation. "Besides, the animal mating instinct is where it's at! Don't knock it 'til you've tried it!"

As they got to their door, Hermione watched with some interest as the dark-skinned Slytherin easily lifted the redheaded witch into his arms bridal-style to carry her across the threshold. Gin squealed with joy, flinging her arms around her partner and rested her head on his shoulder as the door closed behind them, kicked shut by Blaise's foot.

"Yep, it's official: Zabini's pussy-whipped," Teddy wolfishly grinned. He turned in his seat from catching the show and sunk back into the cushions. "Not like it's a secret or anything. He's only been sniffing after the She-Weasel for two years."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that, under the assumption until a few hours ago that the Italian had some sort of odd vendetta against Ginny, not a romantic interest. She glanced over at Draco for confirmation. He coolly met her stare, but said nothing, his face carefully blank.

Once again, she wondered just how much her partner really knew about the true, hidden motivations of his fellow Housemates. After all, he hadn't seemed too astounded by Tracey's revelation that she'd tricked herself right into Slytherin, rather than being sent where she'd really belonged. In fact, he'd been more astounded by the revelation that Harry had been meant for the serpent's nest, rather than the lion's den…

She was determined to get the truth of _that _story from her best friend before the night was over.

But seriously, just how much did Malfoy know about the people playing this game, and was what he'd said about not being able to manipulate the deck in his favor true or not? It seemed almost _too_ coincidental that each player had ended up with exactly the perfect partner – that was to say, someone who fulfilled a need that coincided with a _Slytherin's_ wishes. Blaise had gotten Ginny. Theo had obviously wanted Daphne, as his declaration of love for Greengrass could only lead one to assume that he'd felt strongly towards the witch before the game. Tracey had clearly wanted Harry; the girl had been openly ogling him for this whole last year, from what Hermione had noticed. Pansy… she'd initially claimed not to want Ron, but by the end of the first round, there had been a one-hundred and eighty degree switch in that attitude, so there must have been something there all along. And Malfoy had made no bones about his intentions for this game. Seamus and Lavender were the only odd-couple out, but they could be explained as 'leftovers' paired together… and yet, even the two of them had seemed fated to be together for this game, if for no other reason than to clear-up their past.

Draco sniffed, attracting her interest. "I believe it's my turn." He roll-tapped his fingers over his left thigh and his lip twitched upward in a dry smirk as he pinned Hermione with his gaze. "Well, I'd say everyone is off-limits but you, Beautiful, but as Greengrass reminded us, we have to pick a single individual, so I suppose my answer would have to be Umbridge."

Hermione couldn't help but grimace. Several other people moaned in agreement.

The Senior Undersecretary had visited the school during their fifth year to evaluate the teaching curriculum and determine Hogwarts' continuing accreditations, and like Percy Weasley, she'd left her mark. The Minister, Cornelius Fudge, under pressure because an election year was coming, had campaigned that year on the platform of reforming the educational system of wizarding Britain, and had sent Dolores Umbridge to the school under grand pomp and circumstance with the mandate that she find him something broken that needed fixing so he could point to a success.

From day one, absolutely_ no one_ - except maybe Filch - had liked the witch who always wore pink. Dubbed the 'Cat Lady' because of her rather queer obsession with cute, fuzzy kittens, the students rallied behind Fred and George's scheme to take turns watching out for her and to give a heads-up to their favorite teachers when they saw her coming. Behavior was at its best whenever she was around, and tutoring sessions were doubled at Hermione's suggestion to help those who'd struggled in their classes in an effort to thwart the Minister's plans. It was the first and only time all four Houses at Hogwarts worked in relative accord towards a common goal – _that's_ how much they'd despised Dolores Umbridge.

Frustrated at finding the school running at optimum levels and the classes showing success, Umbridge left in a huff that May with nothing negative to report.

Fudge was summarily beaten out of his office the following November by Rufus Scrimgeour, who'd campaigned that the then-Minister misappropriated too much public funding with his 'pet projects' – such as the one he'd launched upon Hogwarts, a school with the finest traditions and values. No one had forgotten Umbridge and her year-long reign of terror, though. She'd intimidated everyone, tried to manipulate students into turning each other in for misconduct, and been a downright rotten scag, as Ron would say.

"Screwing the Cat Lady? That's one image I dinna want ta have runnin' through me brain," Seamus commented, shaking his head and adjusting in his seat with discomfort. "Can I claim tha' as my answer, too?"

Malfoy shrugged. "By all means," he smirked, taking a red card.

Finnegan nodded. "Then, yeah, what he said," he jutted his chin in Slytherin's Captain's direction. "Tha's gotta be the worst sixes and sevens ta get yer oats I've ever heard. I'd even do Hagrid and Filch a'fore Umbridge."

Draco sniffed. "Which just goes to prove that there's no accounting for taste," he snarked and flipped his card over and read it, signaling the end of the question round. Everyone followed the lead's suit.

Well, Hermione didn't think that her action card this round was bad by any means. She'd get five chances to ask her partner anything in the world she wanted to know about him. Her mind started turning over ideas immediately. What to ask? How far to delve? Should it concern his past or their future? Or did she want to know something about him that was truly forbidden to speak of? _Why not?_ The naughty side of her personality urged her on even as the idea for one of her questions popped into her head.

"Scarhead - the time, if you please?" her partner requested as he stood up and headed her way to offer her assistance off the sofa, his gaze falling to her previously hurt ankle.

Harry moved past his rival, rolling his eyes at the unoriginality of the insult and checked his timepiece. "It's exactly four a.m." He brushed past and rushed to Tracey's side without further ado.

"You have until 4:50 to be back here," Draco called out the reminder to the other couples. "And don't forget the C&DC, ladies."

Helped to her feet by Malfoy's warm hand, Hermione found them in very close proximity to each other, nearly brushing chests together. She tilted her head back and met her boyfriend's gaze. Wow… boyfriend. Was he really? That thought shocked her more than it should – especially since she was the one who'd agreed to the idea of them dating not more than half an hour ago. "Thanks for the prompt," she murmured to him, as she took a step to the side and bent down for her wand lying on the table. After using it to cast the charm upon her belly, she placed it back where it had been resting, and turned her full attention to her wizard.

Draco shrugged sleek shoulders, and she found her eyes transfixed upon the smooth motion of all that muscle under his sculpted, pale skin. "Will you reward my diligence?" he wheedled, raising the back of her hand to his lips and kissing the knuckles with small nipping presses of his lips. Mercurial eyes stared into her soul with blatant, unapologetic heat.

Closing the space between them, she went up on tiptoes and tilted her head, her lips pausing a mere inch away from his. "You're such a good boy, Malfoy," she teased in a low, husky tone. "There's hope yet that I'll get you properly trained by the end of this game."

His lips twitched with barely contained amusement. "You are _so_ getting spanked." Turning on his heel, he led them to their private room without further delay or discussion.

Hermione intentionally lagged several steps behind her boyfriend to watch his arse as he walked, taking full advantage of being led about. He confidently glided with a rolling step over the floor and she let her eyes roam the length of his entire form as he moved. Founders forgive her naughty thoughts, but her would-be lover was a positively sexy specimen! Why had it taken her this long to notice?

"Enjoying the view?" he knowingly smirked as he turned to her, opening the door of their private suite and stepping aside for her to go first.

Feeling wicked, Hermione pretended to tuck her _Deeds_ card into the back pocket of his trousers for safe keeping, surreptitiously copping a feel on his tush at the same time. "Don't know what you're talking about," she smiled, perfecting her features into the façade of a wide-eyed innocent.

Malfoy stepped into her, gripping her arse back with all of the wily stealth of an old, Italian geezer in a room full of plump female bottoms. "You don't?" he deviously grinned. "So you _weren't_ checking out my bum for the whole eight seconds it took us to get across the room to this door? I just need to clarify that point for my own edification."

Arching an eyebrow, she gave him a bright smile. "Oh? Are you doing a research project on the subject of 'penetrating stares,' too? If so, perhaps you and Professor Dumbledore could collaborate-"

His unexpected smack landed squarely on her back right cheek, cutting her off. "Did you know that I get to spank you as I wish this round, Granger?" With his free hand, he raised his _Deeds_ card and waved it back and forth before her eyes. "My card says so, Beautiful." He slapped her again, but it was more a rousing tap than an actual punishment and he sighed with longing, his silvery gaze shimmering with anticipation. "Your arse is going to positively blush for me, Princess… and you're going to come again for me this round. I promise."

To her great astonishment, Hermione's knickers dampened with sudden need as her pussy heated up and her clit throbbed once, twice in response to the fantasies he was putting into her head. No one – not even her parents – had ever paddled her before. She wondered if she'd like it as much as he was bragging.

Unable to stop her reaction, she licked her lips, feeling her blood rush through her face, down her neck, pooling in her womb.

"Ah, I see that you're intrigued… and turned-on by the idea of being dominated," he snickered, rubbing his palm over her backside even as he swiped his tongue very lightly across her bottom lip. Pressed into her belly, Draco's erection was as hard as a steel bar. "Well, then, perhaps it will be _me_ who will properly train _you_ by the end of this game, Granger."

With that, he wrapped his arms about her waist, lifting her, even as her arms came about his neck, and he carried her into their room. As his mouth came down on hers and his foot shut the door behind him, all of her earlier concern about the possible negative influences coming from the cards was entirely forgotten.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Sixes and Sevens = British slang for "crazy idea."**

**Ta get yet oats = Seamus' way of saying, "to get your oats," which is British slang for "to have sex." **

**.**

**Musical Selection for this Chapter: **_**"Words" by Anthony David & India Arie. Lyrics are as follows...**_

_**(man)**_  
_**I believe that heaven must be like this…**_  
_**Ray of sunshine kissed upon your skin.**_  
_**Just say you love me, **_  
_**make my day go good;**_  
_**pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.**_

_**Can't tell you nothing you ain't already heard. **_  
_**No matter what I say it's nothing but words.**_  
_**Just let me prove to you what I know is real.**_  
_**Let me express to you the way that I feel.**_

_**(woman)**_  
_**I believe that love is synonymous**_  
_**with heaven… such a sensual bliss.**_  
_**The way you touch me **_  
_**makes this life so good;**_  
_**a reward at the end of the long road.**_

_**Can't tell you nothing you ain't already heard. **_  
_**No matter what I say it's nothing but words.**_  
_**Just let me prove to you what I know is real.**_  
_**Let me express to you the way that I feel.**_

_**(man)**_  
_**Fairytales can be real if you just believe.**_  
_**Got my mind made, I don't plan to leave.**_  
_**'Cause you were meant for me, **_  
_**simple that may be.**_  
_**Why be complex? **_  
_**Loving you is so easy.**_

_**Can't tell you nothing you ain't already heard. **_  
_**No matter what I say it's nothing but words.**_  
_**Just let me prove to you what I know is real.**_  
_**Let me express to you the way that I feel.**_

_**(Both together)**_  
_**Can't tell you nothing you ain't already heard. **_  
_**No matter what I say it's nothing but words.**_  
_**Just let me prove to you what I know is real.**_  
_**Let me express to you the way that I feel.**_


	45. Chapter 8A: Draco & Hermione

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__Users __**MissOnceMore and Bex-chan **__both __recommended the song, __**"**_**Illuminated**_**" by Hurts **__for Draco & Hermione this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Draco's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**MissOnceMore and Bex-chan **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK to: rzzmg at yahoo dot com.**

P.S. **THIS CHAPTER IS ALSO DEDICATED TO MY FRIEND, UNSEENLIBRARIAN! Love you, dahling! Get well soon!**

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter, folks?**

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**CHAPTER EIGHT (#1): Draco & Hermione**

Draco had never been happier in his whole life. Hermione Granger had agreed to them dating, which meant… "You're _my_ girl," he purred with pleasure against her lips, smiling.

Tightening her grip around his neck, his witch captured his mouth in another searing kiss that he felt to his toes. Slytherin's tricks, she kissed like a goddess – unrestrained, sincere passion accompanied every pull of her lips. Her tongue was a naughty tease, entwining and dancing with his one moment, only to pull away and flick at his lips the next. "Siren," he accused and reluctantly set her on her feet once more. "You're trying to distract me."

Pulling out of his embrace, she gave him an unapologetic, wide grin. "If that were my real intent, I'd have simply done this." Her fingernails followed a slow trail down and back up his covered cock. Already partially erect from their kisses, now it came to full prominence in his trousers. Hermione licked her lips and her eyes were hot with unrestrained lust. "I want a taste of _this_ tonight," she murmured, flattening her palm against him and rubbing over his rock-hard arousal.

Suddenly consumed by the fantasy visual of Granger on her knees before him, those luscious, painted lips of hers wrapped tight around his cock, Draco's lungs encountered a problem pulling in enough air. "Holy. Shite," was all he could murmur, his gaze taking in the way her cheeks flushed, and her amber-honey eyes sparkled as she stared up at him with unabashed affection and wanton need. He'd started all of this tonight with the goal of unleashing this witch's repressed sexuality, and now it seemed he was going to get more than he'd bargained for.

Jerking his hips to encourage her to continue her naughty caressing, he yanked her again into his arms. "I knew you had this hidden inside you, all this time," he smugly stated, lowering his lips to hers. "You like it wicked, don't you, Granger?"

"Mmm, sometimes," she admitted, tracing her mouth over his, barely touching. "There are occasions when I like it intense, swift and rather… ill-disciplined. Other times, I like it romantic and unhurried." She slid her fingers over his cock again. "What about you?"

When she wanted answers, apparently his Hermione wasn't above wielding her sex appeal. He smirked at such Slytherin-like behavior from his Gryffindor Princess. "How about you tell me what your card is this round?" he countered, quite eager to get on with the spanking. The thought of paddling her sweet, golden arse a nice cherry color had his blood surging through his veins.

She recited her action card from memory:

_**DEED: You get to ask your partner any five questions you want about them and they must answer wholly and truthfully. **_

"Hmmm," he buzzed her mouth. "So, are you going to count your last question to me as one of your five, then?"

Tilting her head and leaning away, she considered it. "Yes, I think I will."

He nodded. "My sexual pursuits appear to be _very_ compatible with yours. I love the quick, hot shag, but when it's right, I want _hours_ of touching, tasting and fucking. I'm also into trying out new experiences and taking risks."

"An exhibitionist, are you?" she chuckled, her eyes lighting up with hilarity. "I know you said you'd sub or Dom for me, but how about other types of role-play, bondage, toys, sexual spells and potions, and multiple partners or partner-swaps?" She pursed her lips. "You can consider that my second question."

He ran his hands over the round globes of her bum, smoothing the curves and drawing her closer. "I believe I've told you repeatedly tonight in a variety of ways that, with you, there will be no boundaries I won't cross – except sharing. I don't play well with others, especially blokes." Wanting to impress the seriousness of this one caveat, he locked gazes with her and was very explicit in his choice of words. "I _intensely_ cherish what is mine, Hermione, and it's all or nothing with me. If you accept me, there will be no other man in your bed. We can role-play all you want, but you'll call out _my _name when I make you come." He smoothed a hand over her cheek to soften the harshness of that warning. "If you'll let me, beautiful, I'll bring you endless pleasure. I'll be yours in any and every way you want, for as long as you need and desire. You won't have to look elsewhere."

There was no other way to describe her response to his proposal than to say that she simply _melted_ into him, falling into his frame and fitting her form perfectly to his, gliding their lips together in a kiss filled with so much desirous feeling that it rocked Draco's whole world. His heart beat out of control, his blood roared in his ears, and the entire length of his spine tingled with tiny electric shocks that fingered their way up into the junction of his skull.

Humming his approval, he trailed wet kisses over her jaw to her throat, aware all the while that precious time was slipping by. "Granger, we have to stop. The game, remember? I haven't even read my card yet, and we still need to perform the rest of yours. Either we decide right now to keep playing, or we forfeit so we can fuck." He bit over the sensitive pulse of her throat, causing her to gasp and arch into him. "Your choice."

With a deep inhalation, she groaned and pulled away. "I'm not ready to forfeit yet. Besides, they say anticipation makes the sex better, so I suppose there's nothing for it but to read your card next and get to it."

He snickered at her small, disappointed pout. "I _knew_ you were into sado-masochism, too," he playfully accused, reaching down and adjusting his penis to a more comfortable position through his clothing. "For shutting me down, I'm taking my turn now. You can ask your last three questions later."

Grabbing hold of her hand, he pulled her behind him to the chaise lounge at the foot of the bed and sat down. Gleefully, he smiled up at her and patted his thighs. "Take it all off for me, beautiful, and lay across my lap like a good, little witch." She threw him an exasperated look, but obediently reached behind her head and untied the halter to her dress, letting the entire length flutter to the ground. Her gorgeous, unbound tits drew his immediate attention; the tiny, pink nipples were aroused, practically begging for his mouth to pay them attention.

"The rules say you have to tell me your card," she reminded him with a sinful smirk as she slid her fingers up her torso, cupping her breasts, rubbing her fingertips over the hardened buds.

Reaching into his back pocket, he withdrew both cards, tossing hers aside, and read his action aloud:

_**DEED: Spank and/or rub sensually your partner's naked bum over your lap. **_

"Satisfied?"

Hermione moaned, pinching her nips between her index fingers and thumbs. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and bowed her spine, dropping her head back, offering him the length of her lovely throat. "Not quite, but I could definitely get there soon." Her voice was a husky thing that made his abs clench with the simpliest of sounds.

He watched her fondle her soft mounds, leaning back against the wooden base of the bed frame to enjoy the show. Merlin's bollocks, his girl knew how to pleasure herself! Her hands danced with practiced motion over her flushed, silky-looking skin. "You really do get off on masturbating in public places in secret, don't you?" he asked, astonished to realize that there had been no exaggeration in that boast.

"Mmm, yes," she gasped as she wet a finger and ran it over a taut nipple.

He adjusted his tenting shaft again. The need to touch her was a clawing thing in his chest. "Lose the knickers, beautiful – nice and slow."

Giving him a good performance, her fingers trailed down her honey-colored abdomen, ran over her covered mound, and up again to the ribbons on the side that held her panties in place. As he requested, she leisurely pulled each side loose, until the pretty lacy undergarment fell to her ankles, leaving her completely nude. Draco's mouth watered at the sight of those tempting, trimmed curls just barely covering her slit.

He spread his knees apart and tapped the area between. "Your shoes next," he intimated where he expected her to place her sandaled foot. Compiling, she lifted her left leg to the spot he wanted, which gave him a teasing glance at her pretty pussy. "May I?" he asked, touching the golden ankle strap. She nodded. With nimble action, he had her the fastening unbuckled and the golden shoe lifted, freeing her foot. Dropping the accessory to the floor, he took a moment to gently massage her arch, tickling the sensitive pads.

"You actually _like_ giving massage?" she asked, balancing with grace on one leg. "Most men I know don't. They like getting them, but not giving them."

"Is that one of your questions?"

She shook her head. "Just idle curiosity. You don't have to answer. It's just that you've had two cards tonight that have forced you to touch me like this, and you seemed rather experienced at the art," she replied, shutting her eyes and sighing with pleasure. "That feels amazing."

Leaning forward, he pressed a small kiss to her adorable, painted toes. "I suppose you'll have to just wait and find out then, won't you?" he teased. "Other foot now." He let her go, and watched her body adjust to the shift. Muscles rippled under her skin as she moved, and he was fascinated watching them tighten up. She really had a gorgeous form, and she took good care of it. He completely appreciated that.

Her right foot moved into the vacated spot between his legs and he repeated the process of removing her shoe, massaging her, and kissing her toes before letting go.

"Come closer," he spoke in a gentled, low tone, staring up at her through a half-lidded, lusty gaze. "Lie across my lap."

For a brief moment, anxiety passed over her features and she wet her bottom lip with a nervous swipe of her tongue. Apparently, she wasn't into pain. Hell, she'd probably never been swatted before in her life; he'd be surprised if her parents had used physical punishment on her at all, as his father had on him. That meant, there were two ways to go about winning her compliance in this matter: he could cajole her, or he could command her. Looking into her face, he knew which would be the better option in this case.

"We won't be rough," he promised, holding his hand out to her. "I'll spank you lightly to start. You'll let me know when it's too much. There will be no hurt or humiliation, only pleasure."

Still, she paused, a worried crease appearing in her brow, her lips dropping into a frightened frown.

"Hermione," he coaxed her into meeting his eyes, his heart in his throat. "Trust me."

Something between them shifted then; he saw it as a softening in her features. With supreme courage, her fingers stretched out and met his. She didn't hesitate, or attempt to withdraw once their palms were clasped together. His witch accepted his offer, and gave him her unequivocal trust. In that exact moment, she fully surrendered to the idea of _them_.

Pulling her close, Draco marveled at such bravery. Here she was, willing to try this new thing that clearly scared her, allowing them to experience the opening up of her sensuality together.

_I love you. _

She knelt upon the cushioned chaise at his side, and he helped her stretch out across his thighs, correcting the position of her hips so her bum was in the perfect alignment. Resting her cheek against her crossed arms, she turned towards him to watch. This was her first experience with spanking, and if he knew that if he did it right for her, she'd enjoy it and want to do it again. For that reason, he assured that every gesture and movement – even down to stroking her cheek and through the locks of her soft, curly hair - was designed to assure her pleasure.

"My next question for you: have you been ever spanked and did you like it?" she asked.

He nodded. "Several times - with hands, paddles and whips. I'm not much for wood or leather, but the feel of skin on skin turns me on."

"Does it hurt much?" Her voice sounded very small.

Draco sniffed with amusement. "When I was a child and it was a punishment from my father, yes. When I grew-up and it was done sexually with a woman, no. Different scenarios entirely."

Following a path down her spine, he worked to relax her, touching with gentle insistence over the sway of her hind and tracing around the curves of her bottom. Reaching the seam, he dipped between and very lightly stroked upward. Hermione gasped and bit her bottom lip.

"You've never been touched here before?"

She met his eye. "No," she whispered the secret. "You're the first."

That pleased him immensely, and he tilted his lips upwards in a small smile to let her know it. "I'll be gentle when I take you here." There was absolutely no question in his mind that they would cross that line at some point, whether tonight or in the future, and from the interested spark in Granger's expression, it was clear she didn't find the idea distasteful, but intriguing.

"Have you ever…?" she asked, swallowing. "Done that, there? And yes, it's another one of my questions."

Draco felt the blush tinge his cheeks. Being buggered was one of those things not many straight men admitted to. "Once. Not with a man, though. Madame Aset used a toy on me. It was…" He shut his eyes, remembering the eroticism of the thick, smooth, glass rod stroking against his sensitive prostate. "It felt amazing. I came twice in minutes. The rush was incredible."

"I've never used toys," she admitted. "I'd always thought the idea too perverse."

He nodded, continuing to circle the little rosette, getting her used to the feel of being touched in such a taboo spot. "So you said a few rounds back. But I bet I could get you to appreciate them, if you'd give me the chance." Dipping downward, he tickled over her damp lips, rimming the opening of her vagina. "The kind of stimulation you could achieve…" He gave her a sly look. "Speaking of which, shall we get started?"

Her eyes flared as his palm came down on her right cheek. It was a very light spank, not meant to cause pain but to arouse. His witch let out a surprised yelp anyway. He did it again, to the left cheek. She jerked a bit and tensed in anticipation of the next hit. "Spread your legs a little wider for me," he requested, and when she did, he plunged two fingers into her pussy, leaving them still as his other hand spanked her with progressively harder hits. By the third whack, her juices trickled over his embedded hand and she moaned. By the tenth, her hips were gyrating against his unmoving wrist and her face was as red as her bottom was beginning to look. His hand was soaked.

"You're so _fucking_ beautiful," he murmured, watching her experience this kind of pleasure for the first time – her face lifted off her arms now, eyes and mouth tightly closed, tiny beads of sweat dotting her upper lip. He slapped her again and now her lips parted with an "OH!" of desire. "That's it, love - fuck my fingers while I spank your pretty arse."

He brought his hand down again and again, incrementally with greater force. Pressing up on her elbows, Hermione had her face tilted towards the ceiling, her long hair fanning across her back and her eyelids flickered open. "Oh, Godric…! Draco, this feels so… _YES!_"

Immensely pleased with his handiwork – her bum was the color of a rich, red wine - he stopped to watch her writhe against him as her need rioted out of control. Forcefully, she slammed her backside against the solid, motionless fingers embedded in her. "Oh, please, _please!_" she begged, clearly frustrated by his lack of participation in this effort.

"Up on your knees," he instructed, and she immediately did as he wished. "Say my name when you orgasm," he reminded her and began stroking his hand in time to her thrusts. His free hand reached under her body and teasingly pinched her nipples, one after the other as he made her ride hard against him.

Hermione was an unrestrained mistress, arching her back, moving towards a climax that was guaranteed to leave her exhausted in the aftermath. Her voice vibrated low as she moaned and gasped. Her body shivered as she mounted her glory. Her nips peaked under his expert pulls and caresses. Everything shuddered as she tightened up to spill over. "I need you!" she cried out. "Oh, Godric, I _need_ you, Draco!"

"I'm here, beautiful. You have me. Now, come for me," he charged. "Let go."

He spanked her hard one last time over her arse, and she screamed his name around a choking sob, climaxing tight around his fingers. Her inside muscles clamped down, rippled, rolled, and Draco broke out into a sweat, wishing fervently it was his cock enjoying that sensation rather than his hand. Her body continued to spasm and quake as she drifted down ever so slowly from the peak of ecstasy.

With gentleness, he withdrew from the depths of her cunt and helped her lay back down across his lap as her body went limp. Bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth, he sucked in her essence, tasting her again. His eyes rolled back in his head at the flavor and scent. Licking his hand clean, he simultaneously stroked her bum in soothing circles, easing the ache he knew he'd caused with his last few, impassioned slaps.

"God, Malfoy," she panted, clear satisfaction in her tone. "That was…"

"Mind-blowingly fantastic," he supplied, savoring her saltiness on his tongue.

Granger nodded. "I'm sure there are a million better adjectives to describe it, but right now, that'll do."

He stroked a fingernail over her rouged cheeks. "Does it still sting?"

Wiggling against him, she weakly chuckled. "A little. Feels good though." Stifling a yawn into the lounge cushions, she looked through lazy lids at him and smiled. "You can do that to me any time you want."

The open invitation made him smirk. He couldn't help it; it was a natural reaction to her, after all. "Any time, huh?"

Flipping onto her back, wincing slightly at the sore rub of her reddened skin against his trousers, she arched and stretched like a cat, seeming completely at ease now with her nudity in front of him. "Touch me again, I want more."

He looked down at her with incredulity. A sneaking suspicion arose in his mind, and he gave it voice. "Shite, you're multi-orgasmic, aren't you?"

An impish smile roamed up her face.

"That's why you only need to masturbate once or twice a week, isn't it?"

She actually giggled, the little vixen. "I've never been one to believe the lie that it's quality over quantity. Why accept a limitation when you can have both?"

To Draco's amazement, he felt himself grow impossibly harder in his pants. Bloody hell! "This is your perfect revenge, isn't it? You're going to shag me to death because you know you can't possibly best me verbally."

Impudently, she raised an eyebrow in skepticism over his boast about his oratory skills. "I expect you to prove to me over the next few rounds exactly how good of a mouth you've got on you, Malfoy."

"Is that so? Well, why wait, my princess?" he asked, and moved quickly, shifting out from under her and nesting between her legs. Gripping her ankles, he pushed up and spread wide, completely opening her up. From this angle, she had the sexiest pussy he'd ever seen – it was pink and red with arousal, still glistening with her juices. Saliva flooded his mouth as he dipped his head and licked straight up the middle, parting the petals of her folds.

"OH, GOD!" she wailed. _"YES!"_

Her fingernails ran through his hair and latched on in a painful grip while her inner thighs uncontrollably quivered against his cheeks. Lapping again and again through her slit, he had her actually whimpering for more, easing her only slightly by situating his lips over her little nub and suckling upon it with a gentle force. Eating her out was a dream come true; he'd fantasized of this moment for years, and it was everything he'd ever imagined. Her scent and unique flavor, the little, mewling cries and the tiny, desperate pelvic thrusts captivated and addicted him. Her thick cream frothed his chin and cheeks.

It was decided: there was no absolutely going back for him now. His heart was utterly enslaved. "Love you," he murmured very, _very_ softly against the inner flesh of her sweet cunnie. "My beautiful girl."

"Oh, Draco!" she cried, tightening her grip on his hair. "Please, come into me!"

Lifting his hips, he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped, pulling his cock free, stroking over it. He was harder than he'd ever been – even more so than last round. And he was close to spilling over, to losing his hard fought control.

Once. He could go inside just once. Feel her velvety, slick walls surrounding him…

No, he'd want to keep going, and it would be fast and over with in just a few thrusts, and that wasn't her fantasy. He'd promised to give her what she'd most desired, to make their first time unforgettable. Black sheets, moonlight, wine, rose petals, slow love making… That's what she'd wanted. He wouldn't spoil that wish.

Shite, but he _wanted_ to do it. Wanted it more than he'd ever desired anything in his whole life!

Jerking his closed fist over his dick, he continued to feast upon her, intending to bring them both simultaneously. "Come," he begged her between kisses and nips. "Fuck, Hermione, come again for me!"

A few more swipes across her engorged nub and her thighs tensed, constricted as she reached the end. With a final nibble, she orgasmed, crying his name again.

The lava boiled through his veins, shot up from his sac, and as he straightened over her, his cock aimed between her lower lips, he released with a roaring shout of her name. "HERMIONE! Oh, _Gods!_" His milky, white seed exploded across her swollen, pink clit, dripping down through the drenched seam. His hips surged and his hand continued to pump over his glans and down his length, as jet after jet of his come burst from the tip to cover her, to mark her in an unspoken claim. He ended with a final spurt at her opening, holding his head just pressed against the tiny, moist hole, shooting that final bit up into her without ever having actually entered. It was a cheat, he knew, but it was all he could give them both right then to satisfy, and still keep within the boundaries he'd established for their actual first time.

Shaking, he dropped his hand from his tired cock and sat back on his heels, his eyes closed for just a moment as he struggled to regain breath and sanity. The sweat dripped down the side of his face and the back of his neck, making him aware that he'd need a shower and soon. Maybe next round. A cleaning charm would do in the interim; he'd cast it once he got back to the couches.

The chaise dipped a bit as Granger shifted up onto her elbows to look down at the mess he'd made. Peeking through his lids at her, he noted the astonishment in her eyes as she slipped a hand over her sopping core and swiped through the middle, feeling his residual coating her. Before she could move to clean it off, he covered her hand with his own. Their eyes met and held as he glided them together through the wetness, rubbing his essence into her, combining it with her own. Moving down, he gathered some on her fingers and inserted them into her, stretching her open as they entered her together, depositing his seed into her body, sliding in and out. They did it again and again, not speaking, just watching each other and where their fingers united in purpose until very little remained behind to be wiped away.

Drawing her hand to his lips, he kissed each tip, gaze still locked on hers, drawing the fingers one at a time into his mouth to suck clean. That done, he leaned over her, and pressed their lips together, sharing the flavor with her as he mated her mouth again.

_I love you so much._

Very tentative fingers brushed the crown of his cock, rubbing over his slit, finding the dampness still there. Hermione brought her fingers to her lips, glossed them with his come, shyly smiled up at him, and brought his head down for another kiss. "'Mione," he whispered between pulls of lips, his chest aching with emotion. The act of such intimate sharing, of her willing acceptance of him despite all the odds, caused tears to prick the back of his closed lids. How did he get so bloody lucky to have had this between them all come out as he'd so fervently wished?

They pulled back, watching each other from inches apart, and he ran the back of his knuckles over her cheek.

"Are you falling in love with me?"

Draco froze, his heart stalling behind his ribs, only to speed up a moment later to make up for the pause. Blood roared in his ears.

"Is… is that one of your questions?"

Her dark cinnamon orbs stared into his very soul. "Only if you want to answer it."

Oh, he wanted to. But would it frighten her off?

A significant pause followed as he considered whether to answer or not. "Are _you_ falling in love with _me?_" he asked instead, taking the Slytherin way out.

His Gryffindor Princess didn't bat an eyelash. "Yes."

The breath he'd been holding exploded out of him, and he pressed his face into the crook of her neck. "Hermione, I-"

The chimes chose that exact moment to ring out.

Shite. Of all the rotten timing!

He sighed and it was a heavy, heated puff of air against her shoulder.

"L-look, if you don't feel the same way," she stammered, trying to slip out from under him, misreading his hesitation. "Tha-that's… fine. It's really too fast, and anyway, I think the cards might be influencing us…"

She never got out the rest, as his mouth smashed over hers, cutting her off. Kissing her with all the feelings banging around under his ribs and churning in his belly, he told her the truth he'd been hiding for years. "I feel the same exact way. I've felt it for longer than you know."

Tears filled her eyes. Flinging her arms about him, their kiss grew impassioned as she comprehended his meaning.

It took him remembering that their time was about up to pull out of the heated lip-lock. "Do you want us to forfeit and stay here?"

Resting their foreheads together, she met him unflinching and shook her head. "Let's keep playing. I want to work up to it. I want the chance to fully enjoy this game as you intended from the start." Her face took on a very wicked expression then. "Besides, I'm hoping to get the other one of Ginny's cards soon, since you just performed one on me this round."

He tried not to be disappointed; he'd really wanted her to say 'to hell' with the game, but he knew she was right. They were moving so fast - faster than he'd planned. Easing into each intimacy, building up these feelings and earning her full trust so that when it was time, and he slid into her depths at last, there would be no doubt that it would be real and forever between them. That was the best course, really. And they had plenty of time. He'd waited years for her, so what were a few more hours of love play? It would only make a better, stronger connection anyway.

Pulling them up into a sitting position, and then letting her go to get redressed - to avoid further temptation - he properly fixed his lower region, tucking his spent penis back in. "The spanking thing was the She-Weasel's idea?" he asked, amused at the thought. She hummed and nodded. "Then, I hope Blaise got to use it on her before they forfeited. For the last two years, he's constantly whinged on about how he wanted to spank her arse. All she had to do was toss that red hair of hers and snub him, or pay a little too much attention to some bloke and his temper would fly. Theo was right about him - he's whipped for your friend." Zipping up, he looked at her with disappointment as she tied the ribbons back on her knickers, hiding her sweet, damp pussy away once more. "Go on, what's her other card say, then?"

Bending over to retrieve her dress, she snickered. "Licking food off of your partner anywhere I want. Her _Forfeits_ and _Deeds_ were the same thing both actions, so either way, we'd win with her cards." Seductively, she glanced at him from her peripheral vision. "Making you into a sugar and cream-coated lolly sounds like delicious fun to me."

Yeah, it sounded good to him, too - so much so that his 'little friend' in his pants was rousing once again.

"Then again," she reconsidered as she slipped the silken fabric over her head and zipped it at the back, her ripe breasts jiggling with each movement, making him acutely aware of how shaggable she really was. "Ron's written a sex toy one. Maybe…" She left the thought unspoken, but it was clear she'd be up for trying it out now that they'd paved the golden path of trust between them.

He stood, and helped her tied the halter around her neck, assuring her breasts fit perfectly into the dress' designed cups (taking the opportunity to pinch and roll the nipples one last time, just for fun, causing her to moan and arch into him). "I want either Daphne's blindfold one, Pans' slave one, or one of mine." She glanced over her shoulder at him, clearly interested in the full explanation, but he shook his head and kissed the tip of her nose. "You'll just have to wait and see."

"You're a terrible tease," she accused and slipped her palm into his, leaving her shoes behind.

They walked out together, silent, their individual gratification surrounding them both in a bubble of comfort. At the couches, Draco took his witch in his arms and pressed her to his rapidly beating heart. Three inches shorter without her heels, they were still a perfect fit, as far as he was concerned. "_My_ girl," he whispered very softly in her ear.

"_My_ boy," she whispered back in his.

He chuckled and kissed her lips as they temporarily parted. "Incontrovertibly - on both counts."

Their fingers held on until the last possible moment, reluctant to let go even for the few minutes between rounds. Even then, their eyes never left each other as they waited for the rest of the couples to take their seats and the next question to be drawn. In Hermione's expression, Draco saw her love for him blossoming. Its glow made her more exquisitely beautiful than ever, stealing his breath.

Cock stirring, he became acutely aware that he wanted her again.

His gaze roamed down her golden throat, over the delicate bones of her collar, pausing and lingering on her nipples. The little buds were aroused against the fabric of her dress, and he licked his lips, imagining suckling on the rosy-beige peaks again. Her taste was still in his mouth, too, making him hungry to sample her pussy again. By all that was Holy, he'd loved drinking in her essence, making her come that way. She'd screamed his name, too.

_Mine_, he internally purred with a masculine, arrogant assurance as he watched her eyes alight with a heated desire for him once again. Her fingernails scraped the cushions next to her thighs as she kneaded into them, clearly trying to control her heightened state of arousal.

Yes, Hermione Granger was all his now… and no one, he vowed, would ever take her from him.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

_**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Illuminated" by Hurts. Lyrics are as follows…**_

_**Time waits for no one.**_  
_**So, do you want to waste some time, oh-oh, tonight?**_  
_**Don't be afraid of tomorrow;**_  
_**Just take my hand, I'll make it feel so much better tonight.**_

_**Suddenly my eyes are open.**_  
_**Everything comes into focus. Oh!**_  
_**We are all illuminated;**_  
_**Lights are shining on our faces…**_  
_**Blinded!**_

_**Swing me these sorrows,**_  
_**and try delusion for a while.**_  
_**It's such a beautiful night.**_  
_**You've got to lose inhibition;**_  
_**Romance your ego for a while.**_  
_**Come on, give it a try.**_

_**Suddenly my eyes are open.**_  
_**Everything comes into focus. Oh!**_  
_**We are all illuminated;**_  
_**Lights are shining on our faces…**_  
_**Blinded!**_  
_**We are, we are, blinded!**_  
_**We are, we are, blinded!**_

_**Suddenly my eyes are open.**_  
_**Everything comes into focus. Oh!**_  
_**We are all illuminated;**_  
_**Lights are shining on our faces…**_  
_**Blinded!**_  
_**We are, we are, blinded!**_  
_**We are, we are, blinded!**_


	46. Chapter 8B: Harry & Tracey

**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER_: _**_User **A True Dreamer **recommended the song, **"So Deep In Love" by Joel Auge **for Harry & Tracey this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Harry's thoughts here, and for the interlude song, **EvenstarDreamer**'s choice of **"The Look Of Love" by Dusty Springfield** fit so well. So, this chapter is dedicated to **A True Dreamer** and **EvenstarDreamer** - congratulations! Lyrics for the main chapter song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find both of these songs somehow and give them a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

P.S. **_Unseenlibrarian_** – Hugs and good thoughts for your quick recovery!

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter?**

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHT (#2): Harry & Tracey**

Harry decided on orchids this round. They were, after all, said to tell the woman you loved that she was a 'refined beauty' – or so his Aunt Petunia had always insisted when she'd brought home another of the potted plants to add to her growing collection, in counter to Uncle Vernon's complaining about their cost. He may have harbored a lot of ill-will towards his remaining relatives, but at least he'd learned a thing or two from having to listen to their conversations through the cupboard's thin walls.

Shaking his dark, gloomy thoughts from that track, he looked across the room at his girlfriend throughout the _Interrogations_ round, watching her with his heart in his throat. Yes, she'd look absolutely lovely surrounded by orchids.

As soon as Malfoy had given the signal that the question round was over, Harry had absently announced the time while rushing to his lady's side. She took his proffered hand, and they smiled at each other as soon as their fingers met. Pulling her into his embrace was as natural as breathing now, and he let out a relieved sigh the moment she was in his arms again. Even the few minutes apart they'd spent had seemed too long a wait to hold her once more.

"Come on," he urged, releasing her for the moment and tugging her after him to their private suite.

Tracey giggled. "Eager to get me alone, are you?"

"Understatement of the year," he grinned at her over his shoulder.

At the door, with his hand on the knob, he mentally considered how he wanted the room beyond to respond to his requirements, waited until the count of five for it to rearrange itself, and then guided her in.

_Give it up for the Room of Requirement!_

The decoration even went beyond his expectations. Literally, orchid varietals of every kind and nature were lumped together on practically every available surface, leaving only a clear path from the door to their pillow pile in the middle. The enclosed, mini amphitheatre was perfumed with a heady mix of floral scents, and a tropical, moist air – just a touch on the humid side, but not overwhelming – suffused the room to keep them fresh.

"Oh, goodness!" Tracey was clearly in awe, walking past him to take it all in. "It's… I've never seen… Would you look at that one!" She pointed with astonishment to a gorgeous specimen that sat alone in a water pot in the middle of the replicated teacher's desk. It was a dark purple-nearly black flower, with only four delicate petals. From its center popped straight up into the air two black stamens, and hanging down from the middle ran a series of long, thin strands that fell into the crystal-clear water beneath. It was the strangest, most alien thing he'd ever seen – almost gothic horror-like - and yet, it was so absolutely beautiful that it was mesmerizing.

Tracey turned to him, tears in her eyes. "Harry, you-" She swallowed, her hands joining in the middle of her breast. "I love you _so much_. Thank you. This is absolutely lovely."

His heart flipped, melted, and reformed at her feet in anticipation of her full ownership. Seriously, what had he done to deserve this perfect a girl?

Crossing to her, he ran a hand over her throat and into her hairline, gently fisting some of the golden strands, holding her still so he could claim her lips once more. The other arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her to his chest. "Godric's soul, I love you," he murmured around drugging kisses, feeling the part of him that had been alone for so very long finally trust enough to let go of fear and doubt, and connect to a woman, as he'd always wished.

_She's it_, he realized. _She's the one. _

They spent long moments indulging in each other, before the voice of reason reminded him that they were on a time limit and he pulled back, freeing the arm around her so he could show her his card. Clearing his throat, he took a hesitant step away to get his raging need to throw her down and own her body, heart and soul under wraps. "Better get on with this, before things get out of hand," he maturely took control, and read his action for the round:

**_DEED: Use a feather on your partner in any way you wish._**

The naughty glint and smile that overtook his girlfriend's face made him swallow – hard.

She lifted her own card and read it to him:

**_DEED: Your partner must give you a sensual full body massage. Lips and tongue can be used anywhere you want._**

Tossing the little, laminated marker over her shoulder, Tracey wrapped her arms about his neck and started slowly walking them backwards towards their pile of splendidly comfortable bedding. "Looks like you get to pleasure me this round," she all but purred, her eyes shuttering to half-mast, licking her pink lips.

All of Harry's thoughts flew out the window. He lost his card somewhere in that shuffle towards the plump cushions, barely aware of helping to guide her steps correctly as they made the edge of the soft pile and tumbled down into it together. They landed on their sides, legs entwined, staring at each other. Matching, ridiculous smiles lit up their faces.

Reaching up, he brushed a strand of blonde hair off her cheek. "You're the most amazing woman," he murmured, eyes hungrily taking in every detail of her pretty features. "What'd I do to deserve you?"

Her features softened. "I feel the same way about you." She paused, frowned. "Well, you're an amazing _boy_. I mean, you're obviously not female. Your parts aren't, anyways. They're nice _male_ parts." Sighing, she rolled her eyes and grinned again. "Oh, you know what I mean!"

Chuckling, he gently traced her jaw with the back of his hand. "Silly, too. I like that."

"So, um, have you given any thought to what you'd like to do for your TWN?" she cautiously broached the subject, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

Running the pads of his fingers over the side of her throat and around the front to enticingly caress the skin as he followed the dip of her dress, he nodded. "A bit. Haven't a clue for a name, though. How different should it be from your real one?"

Tracey pursed her lips, considering that. "It should reflect your personality in some manner, but not be close enough to your actual birth name that anyone can figure it out." Her breath trembled as she let it out. "Would you like to know mine? To give you an idea of what I mean?"

His heart skipped a beat. "You trust me that much?"

She gave a long, slow blink and when their gazes met, he fell into the depths of her multi-hued irises. "I trust you with all my heart, Harry."

The strength of her faith in him was staggering, made his question whether he was truly worthy of such a gift. "You're so pure," he whispered, awed and humbled by her conviction. "I'm really not sure I've earned something this big."

Her smile was a warm blanket warding off his bitter insecurities. "I think you're the most worthy person I know." Her nod was decisive. "My True Wizarding Name is Diantha Euterpe Davis."

A whipping energy crackled through Harry's center at hearing her magical soul's name for the first time. It touched him, vibrating through the very marrow of his bones, making him acutely aware of her in a way he'd never been of another living person. It shook him inside and out.

The fact was he'd always been rather sensitive to energy currents; he felt prickly tingles along his fingertips whenever someone cast a spell near him. Over the past seven years at Hogwarts, he'd learned to competently and completely tune-out the odd sensation, however (a necessity, as the castle teemed with background enchantment 'noise' and it would have driven him fair mad otherwise). The speaking of Tracey's TWN, though, was in a whole other league. Just the syllables enunciated with the power behind them sent fiery bursts up and down his spine, and settled a hot flame low in his loins. Like the one time he'd witnessed the casting of the Imperius Curse in fourth year by Moody, it was impossible to shut out or defend against such a commanding force, especially with little forewarning.

To his dismay, he also instantly recognized that it was powerfully persuasive, old magic she'd just spoken – the kind that both repelled and drew you in against your will… and the darker side of his personality was tempted to try the name out and see what would happen. Immediately, he clamped down on the urge. There was no way he would ever hurt his lady. He'd sooner aim an _Avada_ his way.

It took him two tries to speak, to distract his degenerate thoughts. "What's it mean - your name?"

Tracey blushed a pretty shade of pink. "Oh, um, it means, 'Heavenly Flower Delight'. Euterpe is one of nine Greek muses in mythology. She's a purveyor of music and joy."

Leaning forward, he pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "It perfectly fits."

"My brothers chose it." Her voice was slightly dazed as she stared at his mouth, heat in her gaze. The kneading against his chest intensified and her nails rasped a little harder, accidentally stroking against a nipple under his shirt.

The temptation this time was too great to pass up. Rolling her onto her back, Harry leaned over her and captured her mouth again. "Love you," he murmured between wet, lush kisses. "So much… you're all I want… only _mine_."

"Mmmm," she agreed with a nod, as impassioned as he. "Yes… love you… I'll always be… only yours." Her fingers slid into his hair, pulling him closer. "Be mine, too."

Rolling his tongue across hers, he hungrily feasted, losing his ever loving mind in her scent and taste. Dragging her dress up, he caressed her rounded thighs, spreading them apart and following the smooth flesh up to her knickers. Circling over her hot center above the lacy fabric, he could feel her readiness for him in the small undulations of her pelvis and in the dampness of the cloth. It drove him wild. Honestly, if she'd already been sexually experienced, he would have had her right then and there. He'd have ripped their clothes off and thrust into her hard and deep, shagging her with passion into the floor with her legs around his shoulders and his hands holding tight to her hips… But seeing as how she was still a virgin, such a fantasy would have to remain firmly within the realm of mental wishing – at least for the time being.

The reminder of her untouched state helped to cool his ardor. Intentionally pulling his hand away from its delightful pursuits, he pushed up on his elbow and broke their lip lock. "You are entirely too distracting for my sanity." Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he pushed off and sat up, kneeling between her legs. "We really should get to the cards. We'll talk about my TWN while I'm giving you the massage, okay?"

Her pout was adorable. "Aww, it was just getting good, too!"

He chuckled at her petulant tone and expression. "Go on. Turn over for me, honey."

There was some shifting involved, and then she was on her belly for him and he was taking the zip of her dress down. A quick unclasping of her bra and a slide of fabric here and there, and her outfit was bunched at her waist, her torso nude for him again. Turning her head, she watched him from her peripheral vision with a smile. "You're really very good at getting my clothes off of me, I noticed."

He cracked his knuckles and rolled his wrists. "Pure talent, I assure you," he teased and rubbed his hands together to assure they were warm. Conjuring some massage oil with a thought – a scent that matched her perfume - he poured a dollop into the palm of his hand and rubbed them together until they were nice and heated.

Absently, he thought up a song that he could command to play in the background that might be suggestive, while at the same time appropriate to the mood he wanted to establish. Settling on Dusty Springfield's breathy, seductive style, her voice piped in through magical speakers all around them, filling the room with talk of "The Look of Love" in a soft jazzy melody. It was the ideal accompaniment.

The first glide of his hands over the muscles of her back had Tracey groaning in pleasure. Sensually massaging as his card required, he worked to relax her, concentrating on easing her tension. "Let me know if you want it harder, honey." The moment the offer left his mouth, he realized how lewd it sounded and stumbled over the double entendre. "I-I-I mean, if you want the pressure of the… massage to be… softer or…" He trailed off, feeling slightly ridiculous.

Giggling, Tracey opened her eyes and grinned over her shoulder at him. "You're starting to adopt my unintentional penchant for double meaning. Guess I'm rubbing off on you."

Tickling her sides, he laughed right along with her. "Oh, you're definitely doing that – and in all the right ways. I like it." Her long, graceful neck beckoned, so he hunched over and lowered his mouth, pressing small, tender kisses up its length, continuing to caress the dip under her shoulder blades with his thumbs. "I like it _a lot_," he sighed as he reached her ear and swept downward over her sensitive pulse point with his tongue, taking advantage of his card's allowance.

Tracey gasped. "Mmmm, do that again."

Harry did as requested, biting down with gentle pressure on the same spot, making his witch cry out for more. Trailing his lips over the back of her neck and down her spine, he sensuously massaged her arms, her waist, and caressed over the sway of her hind. Tracey's bones liquefied under his touch.

"Ooh, that feels so wonderful," she contentedly murmured.

Conjuring the softest pompom tickler he could think of – made from the feathers of a fledgling Roc – he brought the gathered black plumage to the spot he'd just stroked with his fingertips and lightly ran circles over it. Tracey's hiss of pleasure was very loud and she arched her spine a bit.

"So, what sort of name do you think suits me?" he teasingly asked, running the fluffy fringe over her honeyed skin.

Giggling as he tickled behind the shell of her ear, she squirmed under him. "Fresh! Ahem. Well, you're half-blood, so maybe something with Muggle historical roots, in homage?" she offered. "It should be something strong, though - a name that represents your nobility, your bravery and your compassionate nature. One that symbolizes your Gryffindor's lion heart."

Harry considered that while absently brushing the feather down the back of her neck and over the curve of her shoulder. "Nobility. Bravery. Compassion. A lion's heart, huh?" How she could think such a flattering things about him had him blushing as his mind turned over possibilities. "Well, how about Richard then?" It was the first name that popped into his head, honestly, given the criteria.

Tracey flipped over on him in a blink, dazzling him with a bright smile. "As in King Richard I, _Coeur de Lion_? Yes, that's brilliant! It so perfectly fits!"

Brain fuzzing at the sight of her tempting breasts as they came into view, he merely nodded in acquiescence. "Sure, works for me." Unable to help it, he dipped down and took one of her sweet, tight nipples between his lips and suckled.

"Oh!" Tracey panted, her fingers sliding through his hair to hold on. "Yes!"

Dropping the feather, he concentrated on tasting her instead, getting off on hearing her little mewling cries as he alternately nibbled and sucked upon her nips with increasing pressure. His hands roamed her waist and belly, sliding up to cup and massage the unattended breast while he stroked his tongue over the other. "So pretty," he mumbled, nuzzling under the flesh, lapping there, too. "Love these so much. Could do this forever."

_No, the name - you have to finish it_, a voice in the back of his head reminded him.

With a reluctant series of final kisses, he pulled away, forcing his desire back so he could concentrate. "Focus. Have to… Yeah, um, so what about a second name? You've got two parts to yours. Is that normal?"

It took Tracey a long minute to pull aside the curtain of her hazy need and answer. "Right, we were talking about your TWN, weren't we? Yes, two or even three names are acceptable. Uh, a middle name… how about Leander? It belonged to your paternal grandfather."

He blinked a couple of times in confusion as her suggestion sunk in. "My grandfather's name? How would you know that?"

Her eyes widened with surprise. "It's on one of the Quidditch House Cups in the Trophy Room. The trophy said Gryffindor had taken the Cup in 1935, and 'Charlus Leander Potter' was listed as Captain and Chaser of Gryffindor that year. Professor Dumbledore told me that he was your grandfather, when I asked. Haven't you seen it?"

A glowing hope flared in his chest. A family lineage he hadn't even thought to trace was available right here at Hogwarts? Maybe he could learn more about his roots once the game was over and they were back to real life. "No, I had no idea. I don't… I've only really looked at my father's trophy for Quidditch down there. Never thought there might be other Potters."

A beautiful smile crept up her cheeks. "You had to come from magical stock somewhere to be half-blood, you know."

A dark thought entered his mind. "Wait, Dumbledore told you this?"

She nodded, bushing, dropping her gaze from his with embarrassment. "Well, I sort-of made it my business to know more about you whenever I could, so I asked him about you a few times." Her lips made a cute moue and she winced. "That sounds terribly stalker-ish, doesn't it?"

Harry shook his head, distracted by the thought that once more, Dumbledore had kept him from knowing something about his family. Oh, sure, it wasn't the man's responsibility to point out every relic hanging about with the Potter family name attached, but would it have really been such a chore for him to take a few minutes out to do so at some point over the last seven years? _McGonagall_ had been the one to show him the trophy with his father's name on it during first year. If not for that, he'd have never known about his father's shared love of Quidditch – a motivating factor in every game he'd played since. To know now that the appreciation for the game had been with his grandfather, too, was exciting. Quidditch was in his blood, and it created another connection to the family he'd never known, making him feel a part of something bigger.

Tracey's fingertips came to a tentative rest upon his cheek and he drew out of his introspection to focus on her. Her thumb traced his lips. "Richard Leander Potter," she murmured, anchoring him to the here and now. "Do you like it?"

He did, very much – all the more so because the woman he loved had helped him to pick the name. "Yeah, it's a good name. So, how would we bind it to me?"

Her answering smile was bright. "Hand me my bra and help me up," she requested. "If we're going to do this, I should be dressed."

Reaching behind to grab her lingerie, he did as she asked and stood back as she adjusted her dress to hide away her nudity once more. He gave a disappointed sigh as she tucked her breasts into their cups and she threw him a charming smirk as she turned with a silent request for him to zip her back up.

"I prefer you naked," he bluntly stated, assuring the straps at her shoulders were correctly aligned.

Laughter like tinkling bells sounded from her lips and she back glanced at him with a sinful gleam in her eye. "I prefer us _both_ naked."

Shaking his head in amazement, he wrapped his arms about her and nuzzled into her throat. "A sweet, gentle Hufflepuff in naughty Slytherin's robes. Who'd have guessed?" Pressing his erection between the cleft of her bum, he rubbed up and down. "Mmm, that gets me so bloody hard, honey."

Moaning, she arched her arse into him, gliding up and down over his covered shaft as his fingers danced their way up her torso to cup and knead her breasts. Tracey's tricky hands circled behind her to burrow under his shirt and find his naked skin, and with a squeeze, she sunk her sharp, little nails into his hips. The raking sting instantly turned his cock to solid steel.

"Wanna be inside you," he whispered in her ear, lowering his lips a fraction and biting down again over her pulse, pressing up against her backside with a roll of his pelvis. "_Holy gods_, I need to be inside you soon."

"Then make me yours, Harry - right now if you want."

Bloody hell, such an invitation was hard to resist! All Harry wanted in that moment was to tear the clothing from the both of them, kick her legs wide, bend her over the pile of pillows, and thrust to the hilt in her silken heat.

_Too soon_, reason situated itself back into his conscience. _And not like that._ _She's a virgin, remember? _

With a deep, shuddering breath, he pressed a kiss to her neck and dropped his hands back to her waist, ceasing the movements of his hips. "Slow and easy," he reminded them both, rubbing his cheek against her soft, fragrant hair. "I'm not done romancing you. I want tonight to be perfect, so you'll have a beautiful memory of your first time for always."

Turning about, Tracey wrapped her arms about his waist and snuggled in close to his heart. "I love you _so much_, Harry James Potter - more than the world!"

Returning her embrace, he lowered his face into her hair again. "I love you, Tracey Marie Davis." He paused to come up with a comparison to adequately represent the breadth of his growing feelings for her. When inspiration struck, he didn't care if it sounded daft, as it was how he felt. "I love you more than the stars."

She placed a kiss over the area of his heart and cuddled closer. Apparently, he'd said the right thing.

They stayed like that for a long while, just breathing in each others' air. The scent of orchids and damp earth and Tracey's perfume imprinted upon Harry's senses, bringing him true peace. It was only reluctantly that he loosened his grip when she moved to put a little space between them.

"I remember the ceremony for binding the TWN to your magic, if you're happy with the name choice you made," she confidently met his eye. "Do you want to do it now, or think about it some more?"

He considered the offer. "Can you tell me more about the specific hocus-pocus we'd have to perform?"

"Well, the ritual requires that I press the tip of my wand over various locations on your body and speak the Binding Spell," she patiently explained. "The locations are: your mind, your heart, your lower belly, and the inner wrists of both hands. These are the places magic flows from and between. Then, when I tell you to repeat after me, you must be sure to repeat the exact words I use. That's _very_ important."

"What if I mess up?" he asked, slightly concerned. "Will I blow up or something?"

Tracey frowned. "You know, I'm not sure, but that was the warning I received during my own binding at the age of eleven."

"Then I suppose I'd better say it all correctly," he joked, irreverently grinning at the thought of ballooning up and floating away as his Aunt Marge had that one time. Honestly, he felt rather confident that pronouncing all of the required words wouldn't be an issue (he'd gotten over flying into a bundle of nerves at trying out new spells after his first Floo mistake in second year, when he'd ended up in Knockturn Alley by mistake), but he'd just had to ask, for curiosity's sake.

"I'd recommend it," Tracey met his grin with her own. "After you repeat the words, you'll feel the magical name take hold of you. For me, it felt like a key in my soul had suddenly turned a lock, sealing away my secret self – the "me" deep inside that is powerful with magic. Since you're overage, though, I have no idea what it will be like for you. You're really not meant to have your powers sealed away after you hit seventeen, so it might just be a tingle or a bell ringing or something benign like that."

"And that's it?" he asked, surprised at the simplicity of such an archaic and significant ceremony. From what he'd read when he'd looked up the old magic his mother had used to save him from Voldemort when he'd been just a baby, ancient rites tended to be incredibly complex, and usually required a blood sacrifice of some sort. That this one didn't…

Tracey grimaced, cutting him off mid-thought. "Not quite. I'll need to slice the palm of your left hand and you'll need to rub the blood over your forehead, the bare skin over your heart and belly, as well as both wrists to signify your free will in accepting your magical name. The blood acts as sort of a contractual binding. Only then will it be done."

Ah, so there _was_ blood required.

Suddenly, Harry wasn't so sure about this idea. Some intuition in his gut stalled at giving Tracey the go-ahead to perform the ritual, and yet, he really couldn't put a finger on why that was. He trusted his girlfriend and was sure she'd perform the ritual correctly, so that wasn't it. Maybe it was the idea of the sealing of magic that made him uneasy. After all, he'd never had it done to him before; he'd been a 'rogue' wizard since birth, never restrained as Dumbledore hadn't seen fit to inform him of the custom, much less perform it upon him. Was there a reason for that, or had it simply been the old man's oversight? He wished he knew.

He really wanted to talk to Hermione and Ron about this whole idea, too. They could provide him with secondary insight into the convention, and help bolster his courage a bit.

"I… I'd like to hold off until I have a bit of time to think about it," he gently explained. "It's nothing to do with you. I just would like to talk to Ron and 'Mione about their experiences, too. Get a full picture of what to expect. Are you okay with that?"

Tracey's eyes widened. "Oh, yes, of course! This is a big decision, Harry, and you should be completely comfortable with making it. Talking to your best friends about it would be more than appropriate." She bit her bottom lip. "And if you want one of them to perform the rite for you instead-"

He cut her off with a passionate kiss. "No one else but you will bind me, if I go through with this," he promised her, pressing their foreheads together and staring her in the eye. "I trust only you with something this important, honey."

Tears filled her eyes, spilling over. Her smiling lips trembled against his. "Oh, Harry…"

The blasted chimes rang out.

Ignoring them for the moment, Harry snogged his witch again, taking her back into his arms and holding her tight. Whispering loving things to her around pulls of lips and tongue, he worked to reassure her of his trust in her abilities and in her confidence.

Just before the final bell, they abandoned their private suite. At the door, he presented his most beloved and refined lady with an orchid wrist corsage in a shade of purple that matched her dress. It was an old-fashioned gesture, but it felt like the charmingly poetic thing to do. Honestly, he'd never given a girl flowers before Tracey, but he'd always wanted to. Ginny and Julie just hadn't felt right, though. Now he had the perfect excuse, as his new girlfriend was positively made for being romanced.

His witch marveled over her gift all the way back to the couches, stroking the soft, dark purple petals of each flower and fingering the black ribbon that wound between them. "More than the world!" she sighed into his mouth as she kissed him one last time at the sofas.

Harry's heart sang with happiness. "More than the stars," he vowed in return, and he knew he meant it.

* * *

**_TO BE CONTINUED…_**

* * *

**_Roc = An enormous legendary bird of prey in Arabic mythology; sometimes depicted as a bird of all white plumage, other times, all black._**

**_Richard = German for "brave ruler."_**

**_Coeur de Lion = French for "Heart of Lion." It was Richard I's nickname – "The Lion Heart King."_**

**_Leander = Greek for "lion of a man." _**

**_For the sake of this fic, I gave Charlus Potter the middle name of Leander (which is not canon, although the character of Charlus is, according to the Black Family Tree that JKR created - which shows Charlus married Dorea Black and somehow related to James Potter I). Although it is unclear from the tree whether Charlus was Harry's grandfather or his great uncle, I have decided for this story that he is James Potter I's father, and therefore Harry's paternal grandfather. It just makes it easier all around. _**

**_In canon lore, James Potter I's father and mother were both pure-bloods and both "older" when they gave birth to him (although the date of their own births is known, and their deaths occurred sometime between 1976-1981 from illness). James was their only child. For the sake of this fic, I have decided that Charlus was born July, 1918, graduated Hogwarts at age 17 (almost 18) in June, 1936 when the House Cup was handed out, and so was 42 years old when James was born in 1960. _**

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "So Deep In Love" by Joel Auge. Lyrics are as follows…**

**_I've fallen fast in love with you!_****_  
_****_Oh, I've fallen fast in love with you!_**

**_Fastened to knowing more of you._****_  
_****_Gripping to what I know is true._****_  
_****_Yeah, I'm so fast in love with you!_**

**_Yeah, I've fallen deep in love with you._**  
**_Yeah, I've fallen deep in love with you._**  
**_Deeper than any ocean blue._**  
**_Depth that no death can hold me to._**

**_Yeah, I've fallen deep in love with you._****_  
_****_Yeah, I've fallen deep in love with you._****_  
_****_Deeper than any ocean blue._****_  
_****_Depth that no death can hold me to._**

**_I'm so deep in love with you._****_  
_****_I'm so deep in love with you._**

**_Deeper than any ocean blue._**  
**_Depth that no death can hold me to._**  
**_I'm so deep in love with you!_**  
**_I'm so deep in love._**  
**_So deep in love…_**  
**_So deep in love!_**  
**_I am so deep in love._**  
**_So deep in love…_**  
**_So deep in love…_**  
**_So deep in love!_**  
**_I am so deep in love._**  
**_So deep in love…_**  
**_So deep in love…_**  
**_So deep in love!_**

**_Yeah, I'm so deep… deep in love with you!_**


	47. Chapter 8C: Ron & Pansy

**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER**_**: **__Users __**AngryCheeseBalls and **__**burden27 **__both __recommended the song, __**"Stolen" by Dashboard Confessional **__for Ron & Pansy this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Ron's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**AngryCheeseBalls and **__**burden27**__ - congratulations! Lyrics for the main chapter song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!**

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – Once more, you have proven your amazing skills with the editing pen. THANK YOU!

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter? Short, I know, but this is a 'resting period' for them… sort of.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight (#3) – Ron & Pansy**

"Red, of course."

"Purple, for me."

Ron looked askance at her. "Not green? I'd have thought you'd like Slytherin colors best."

Pansy shook her head, and her hair tickled his nose. "Hate them, honestly. My family's home is decorated around the theme, as my parents were in Slytherin together. I'm sick unto death of green, silver and black." She looked over her shoulder at him. "Someday, if we get our own place, promise you'll let me decorate at least one room in a purple theme."

Uncomfortably seated on the conjured swimming pool's built-in bench, he adjusted Parkinson's bare bum a little to the left to prevent his nads from becoming jellified by her weight upon them, and considered what she'd just said. "If?" he questioned, feeling a nervous flutter in his belly. "Don't you want to live with me?"

Pansy turned her cheek into him and rubbed against his damp hair. They'd been swimming (and splashing each other) earlier, and it was still quite wet from that little romp-fest. "I wasn't sure… I didn't want to assume, I mean."

He rubbed a hand over her tummy. "We're going to have a baby together," he stated, smiling at the thought. "I'd hope that means you'll want to live with me."

"I do, but… where will we go?" she wondered. "I won't be able to go home after all of this." She sounded so forlorn. "Papa - he doesn't like to be thwarted, and Mama is… well, a pureblood wife of the aristocracy. I doubt they'll take my rebellion in stride."

She shivered against him, and Ron had the impression that something dark and ugly had just entered the room with them. He cradled her close and turned her in his arms, tilting her chin up. Her eyes were wide and the pupils flared with… yeah, that was clearly fear. A sudden need to protect bloomed in his chest, and a suspicion had his anger simmering under the surface.

"Do they physically hurt you?" he asked.

Wariness slid across Pansy's features, to quickly be shuttered and controlled until only a beautiful, cold mask existed where previously there had been expression and light. It was the face she usually wore around school. She'd shut down on him, stealing back the tenderness exchanged between them over the past few hours, and he didn't like it one bit. It felt wrong in ways he couldn't express to see her return to the woman she'd been prior to the game's beginning.

"Shite," he swore, his ire rising. "They hit you, don't they?"

"Of course not," she stated, her voice a pale reflection of its previous warmth.

He grabbed her arms in a rougher grip and held her steady. "You're lying to me." He shook his head, feeling resolute in his intentions in this matter. "This isn't a game, Pans. I love you and I'm asking you for the truth: _do they hit you?_"

The ice cracked and she swallowed. "I'm pureblood," was her reply.

"So am I," he reminded her. "That doesn't mean shite. Spanking is one thing, but worse? Not acceptable. Did they do worse to you, baby? Tell me."

She didn't say anything, but her eyes hardened into stone and her lips clamped together in a tight, thin line. The Bitch Queen of Slytherin had retaken her throne.

Ron's stomach plummeted, making him feel ill as he imagined all sorts of depraved scenarios. "They whipped you, didn't they?"

The minutest twitch of her eyelid was all that gave the truth away.

"What else did they do to you?" he demanded, innately understanding what was not being spoken. A suddenly thought crossed his mind – the day in the Transfiguration corridor, she'd been doing a serious bout of crying. "Shite, did they threaten you if you didn't marry that Durmstrang fucker?"

She pulled out of his embrace and gracefully swam away from him on her back, her eyes refusing to meet his. "Does it matter? I'm not marrying him no matter what, so I'll accept whatever punishment they can dole out."

With two full side strokes from his powerful arms, he caught her in the middle and grabbed hold of her waist, pulling her back into his embrace. "If they so much as touch a hair on your head…" he warned. "You're mine to care for now, baby - my witch. Got that? You'll come live with me after graduation. I won't let them hurt you ever again."

Her dark gaze glittered with unshed tears, her shoulders slumped with defeat. "Live where?"

"All of my money's tied-up in my brothers' business as an investment, so it would have to be at my family's home first," he offered. "But if I called on my siblings to help – especially Bill and Charlie, we could all work together on weekends to build a cottage on the property just for us. A year at most, and we'll be in our own home," he figured. "It would be small, but cozy. A good starter. And it would be close enough to my mum that if we needed a babysitter, she could help out." Fingering her wet hair over the shell of her ear, he gave her a reassuring smile. "You can paint the inside purple, if you want. I don't mind."

She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. "You realize my father and mother will make this hell on both of us? They're politically influential, like the Malfoys and Signora Zabini. They could… make it troubling for your job."

"Look at me," he commanded, cupping her cheeks. When she obeyed, he gave her his most confident smirk. "I'm not worried. Weasleys are resilient. I can take whatever they dish." He kissed her lips with gentleness, feeling his chest hitch again with the powerful emotions that he felt for this witch. They threatened to consume and overwhelm him every time he touched her, and he wondered again why they'd both been so stubborn for so many years. "I will protect you. You're _mine_."

Sniffling, she rubbed the tears from her cheeks. "I'm scared," she admitted in a small whisper. "It's all so much – us getting together, trying for a baby, moving in together, leaving my family home forever – no matter how horrid my parents have been, graduating. It's happening so fast."

He nodded. "I know." Pulling her into a full hug, he pressed his cheek into her and sighed. "But, Pans, we'll have each other. I promise we can work it all out, just so long as you want us to be together. Everything else, we'll take as it comes. I'll be with you, at your side the whole way."

"I'm Slytherin," she reminded him. "It's hard for me not to plan ahead. Tonight changed all the rules for me in that aspect. I just thought this game would be my last chance to have fun, and Draco asked me as a friend to do him this favor, so I agreed to play. I never foresaw my whole world upending. I don't know how to face it without a plan in place."

He float-walked them over to the ledge again and settled her in his lap. "How about this: we'll pretend to your parents that things are going according to their plan for you regarding the marriage contract to the wanker."

"Philos," she sniffed. "That's his name."

Ron shrugged. "Philos-Schmeelos. Whatever. Just let them think you're going to marry him on schedule. Then, after the graduation ceremony, we explain to them that I knocked you up and we're engaged…"

She jerked back and looked at him with astonishment. "Wait, we're _engaged?_ As in, 'getting married soon'?"

He raised one ginger eyebrow at that and snorted. "Well, yeah. What did you think I've been talking about for almost the last two hours?"

A cunning glint came into her eye and she teasingly smiled at him. "It's funny, but I don't remember you asking me to marry you, Mr. Weasley. Properly, that is." She melodramatically shoved her left hand out in front of her and wiggled the fingers. "Nope, not at all."

Oh, for the love of…!

He dumped her off his lap and headed towards the other side of the pool, towards the exit. Pansy dropped with a squeak under the water, coming back up sputtering and huffing with indignation. He tried to hide his chuckle and smile as he hurried to the stairs, knowing she'd hex his arse once she got her wand back in hand.

"Ronald Weasley!" she shouted, sounding extremely cross with him. "You'd better run, you rotten fink!"

A fuss of splashing erupted from behind him and knew she was hurrying through the water to get at him. He hopped up the steps and out, fully naked and dripping water all over the floor. Thank goodness this was the Room of Requirement, as it was easy to conjure a towel and dry up the mess with merely a thought. He waited for her at the top of the stairs and watched as she rose from the water like some Roman goddess of retribution, countenance full of wroth, and rose blooming in her cheeks and down her body. "Here you go, baby," he rubbed down her shoulders and arms, patting her skin dry, unable to stop the grin that overtook his face.

She put her hands on her hips and let him play at kiss-up. "That's right, slave-boy: minister to me with the appropriate humility. It's the only thing saving your skin right now."

"I live but to serve you, my great Queen of Snakes," he joked.

She smacked his arm, but allowed him to pamper her to make up for being a prat and dumping her on her backside into the water.

Running the towel over her long, graceful limbs, he smacked his lips at the fetching sight of her nude body as it blushed and trembled under his touch – especially her tits, with their frosted plum nipples that stood up in attention at the change in temperatures. Unable to resist, he bent his upper body and took one between his lips. Pansy moaned, threw her head back and ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him in tighter as he worshipped her body again with hands, lips and tongue.

"Marry me?" he murmured the question between pulls of her nip. "Say yes."

Pansy hummed in joy. "It depends on what you do to me next," she rather breathily replied.

Dropping to his knees without pause, he licked straight up her slit, latching onto her tiny clit and sucking very gently. He knew she was probably as sore as he was, but that undeniable attraction between them helped to heighten her arousal; she was damp with her juices from just this little bit of attention. Unfortunately, _he_ was physically reaching the end of his rope, having shagged her half to death in the last couple of hours, the Restorative Potion giving him the strength for a valiant run, but not enough for a final rally, it seemed. Instead, he concentrated on her pleasure this time, using his honed talent at oral manipulation – something Lavender and Romilda had both demanded he perfect on them – to bring her to bliss.

Very soon, his witch's whimpers became gasping breaths, and her cream frothed his chin and lips as she neared climax again. Her fingernails raked across his skull – _Merlin, he loved that!_ – and she looked down at him to watch as he continued lapping at her essence, drinking it down.

"I love you," she murmured, her lower extremities tightening up against the palms of his hands, which cradled her beautiful bum and kept her close. "I never thought I could be this happy. I… Oh, Ron! Yes, _yes,_ I'm yours!"

She climaxed, throwing her head back. Looking up the long line of her perfect body, Ron felt a tightening of his own – in his chest. He loved her and was never more aware of it than in that moment. Fate, karma, the gods - whoever or whatever was responsible for this - he'd owe them big for allowing him to have her.

As her knees gave out, she fell onto his lap, straddling him. He caught her easily and drew her into his arms again. They fit so well together, too.

"Right," she panted, struggling to regain composure. "It's decided then," she stated.

He bumped foreheads with her and licked the residual of her from his lips, enjoying the lemony-slightly salty flavor. "What is, baby?"

Her eyes met his, and in them, he saw his future.

"I can work with jewel tones – in the bedroom, I think would be best," she impishly stated, giving him a hopeful smile that blew him away. "Purple sheer curtains and fluffy throw rugs, red satin sheets and pillows. Sexy and regal. Oooh, and how would you feel about black mixed in there, too? We could go for the Goth look!"

Smile tugging at his cheek, Ron chuckled. "Oh, yeah, I fancy the whole modern dungeon theme. Don't forget the chains mounted to our headboard," he joked.

Pansy's gaze flared to life and she practically bounced up and down in his lap with enthusiasm. "I know I said I hate silver, but in this case I'll make an exception, lover. Silver chains it is!"

Strangely turned on at the thought at the same time as horrified by the idea, Ron rolled his eyes and tried to control his growing arousal. "I've turned my woman into a monster."

Noting the press of his steeling flesh between her thighs, Pansy reached down and stroked it to life once again, defying his earlier exhaustion. "Turned me into one? Hardly. I've _always_ been an animal, baby," she purred against his lips, lids shuttering to half-mast with sultry intention. She dropped to the floor and leaned down with her mouth. "Here, let me prove it."

And she did… she really, _really_ did!

Thankfully, he'd finished and she'd swallowed every drop of his release just in time for Harry to come knocking on their door.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Stolen" by Dashboard Confessional. Lyrics are as follows…**

_**We watched the season pull up its own stakes,**_  
_**and catch the last weekend of the last week**_  
_**before the gold and the glimmer have been replaced.**_  
_**Another sun-soaked season fades away…**_

_**You have stolen my heart.**_  
_**You have stolen my heart.**_

_**Invitation-only, grand farewells…**_  
_**Crashed the best one of "the best ones".**_  
_**Clear liquor and cloudy eye…**_  
_**Too early to say "good night".**_

_**You have stolen my heart.**_  
_**You have stolen my heart.**_

_**And from the foreign fall we are the celebration**_  
_**One good stretch before our hibernation.**_  
_**Our dreams assured, and we all will sleep well…**_  
_**Sleep well.**_  
_**Sleep well.**_  
_**Sleep well.**_  
_**Sleep well.**_

_**You have stolen…**_  
_**You have stolen…**_  
_**You have stolen my heart!**_

_**Watch you spin around on the highest heels…**_  
_**You are the best one of "the best ones".**_  
_**We all look like we feel!**_

_**You have stolen my…**_  
_**You have stolen my…**_  
_**You have stolen my heart.**_


	48. Chapter 8D: Theodore & Daphne

**_CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: _**_User **readme2023 **recommended the song, **"**_**Never Have I Ever_" by Hot Chelle Rae _**_for Theodore & Daphne this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Theo's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to **readme2023 **- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK TO: _rzzmg_ at _yahoo_ dot _com_.**

P.S. **_Unseenlibrarian_** – You brought this couple to life in my head with your enthusiasm for them. Thank you so much for the suggestions on this chapter and for the beta work! Owe you a choco biscuit... or four!

**EVERYONE ELSE - PLEASE REVIEW! Would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter!**

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHT (#4): Theodore & Daphne**

As soon as Malfoy signaled the question round was over, Theo slid across the sofa until his side touched Daphne's. "Hey sexy lady, come here often?" he teased, as the others coupled up and headed for their private rooms.

Daphne gave him an amused smile and looked at him over the rim of her glasses, tweaking an eyebrow.

Man, he loved when she did that. _So. Fucking. Sexy!_

"Actually, tonight is my first foray into the Room of Requirement," she admitted.

Theo's jaw nearly hit the floor. "Really? Wow - an RoR virgin!"

Ever since this room had been discovered quite by accident by Longbottom during the year of Umbridge's terrorizing, it had become the place to go for a private hook-up. The room was completely off the grid – Filch had no idea how to get in, and neither did any of the staff, as far as Theo could discern. It could accommodate several couples at the same time, with none of them the wiser that they were sharing the same space with others, because the RoR was like a sentient pocket reality; a multi-dimensional space that had virtually limitless height, length and width abilities and that could fulfill your desires with a simple thought. Hip-hip for Undetectable Extension Charms and Replicating spells, as those two types of enchantments made just about everything in here possible!

He leered at his 'date,' bringing his nose down until it lightly bumped hers. "Seems that's two firsts I'll have of you, love," he murmured with smug satisfaction.

"Three," Daphne corrected him.

He tilted his head with the unspoken question, keeping his nose on hers.

"I have never swallowed semen before."

"Holy. Shite." He leaned his head back, looked up at the ceiling to thank _someone_ up there for having made this possible, and exhaled all of the air in his lungs. He glanced at her. "That's not a joke, right? You're serious?"

His witch nodded. They stared at each other.

The Irish's door shut with a loud click, signaling that the last couple was safely nestled into their private chambers. They now had the run of the main room. Theo's heart rate accelerated, increasing the saliva in his mouth as he considered the possibilities. His 'little mate' in his trousers was tired after coming three times in less than two hours, but was making a valiant effort even so at showing some interest for a fourth hurrah.

"You're something else, you know - a one-in-a-million girl."

Daphne's lips twitched and a smile sprang into life. "Am I?"

"Yeah," he reached out and took her elegant, neatly manicured fingers in his hand. "You're brilliant, gorgeous, sexually experimental, and a Slytherin at heart. I'm just sorry it took me so long to see it all."

His witch traced circles with her nails over the back of his hand. "Tell me: what does your card require of you this round?"

He picked up his card and held it up for both of them to read.

**_Your partner has to kiss your neck, ears, face and lips as you instruct them._**

Daphne held her card up next to his.

**_Your partner must give you a sensual foot and leg massage with a nice scented oil of your choice._**

"Rather benign," she commented.

Theo took her card from her hand with a quick motion, tossing them both to the floor. Unfortunately, he accidentally cut her finger in the doing. Greengrass hissed and pulled her hand away, squeezing it to staunch the thin trickle of blood that welled to the surface of her skin. Realizing his mistake, he reached out and took her hand in his, bringing the cut to his lips and kissing over it. "Bloody hell, I'm sorry, sweetheart. I meant for that to look dashing and such, and instead I hurt you. Shite!"

Daphne giggled. "Then you must make it up to me, my Theo."

He slid to the floor at her feet, bringing her wounded finger into his mouth, licking over her injury until the blood flow was staunched. "Name my punishment, my Queen."

With an imperious, grand gesture, she pulled her finger from his mouth, made her feet and stood over him. "I'm curious, Theo: is it Pince specifically with whom you wouldn't care to copulate, or is it librarians in general?"

Curious as to where she planned to go with this new line of questioning, he played along. "Aren't all librarians the same?" he joked.

One of her golden eyebrows raised and she looked over her glasses at him again. Raising her hand, she silently _Accio_'d her wand to her, and it came with a slap of wood against flesh.

"Perhaps not. Follow."

Without waiting to see if he would comply or not, she turned and moved around him towards their private chamber. She left the door open behind her as she entered, and he could see a whirling of colors as their room adjusted to whatever fantasy image she had conjured upon entering it.

Theo ran to catch up, shutting the door to their exclusive suite behind him. Once through, he was pleasantly surprised by the new décor his partner had chosen for their frolicking: a replica of the Hogwarts library. It was perfectly detailed, right down to the tall windows with the stained glass at the tops lining one wall, showing the very early morning sky, still dark and several hours away from sunrise. He'd always wanted to shag a girl in the library at night. Now he'd get his chance.

Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, he prowled down the wide corridor that separated the various book stacks, looking for his lover. To his delight, she was sitting on top of one of the study tables down at the far end, her long legs crossed and leaning back on the palms of her hands, watching his approach with a naughty smile. It took him a moment more to recognize what was different about her - her outfit had changed.

"How'd you do that?" he asked, nodding in appreciation at the sexy librarian look she had going on now. The tight, white blouse with the short, capped sleeves was very old-fashioned, but coupled with the demure, knee-high tweed skirt and the pair of five-inch, black heels…

Daphne wordlessly lifted her wand and pointed it at her hair. It immediately twirled up into a tight bun, revealing her long, tantalizing neck. "Magic," she teased with an amused twist of her lips.

Transfiguration was one class in which he knew she excelled, as he'd paid close attention to such facts over the last couple of months, since he'd begun watching her. He made an "ahhh" noise and nodded his head in understanding. "So, Madam Greengrass," he began, pretending right along with her, "is my detention to be spent shelving books in the stacks?" He stepped into her and placed his palms down over her hands, leaning down to her eye level. "Or, do you have something more nefarious in mind for me – like waxing the table tops?"

Daphne was completely undaunted by his proximity, or the fact that he was leaning over her in a dominant position. She wasn't the least concerned either with the possibility that he could simply push her onto her back, slide that tartan-striped skirt up, take her knicks down, and fuck her brains out right there across the table, like he was tempted to do. Instead, she stared him down behind those sexy, square glasses, her confidence over her control of the situation – of _him_ - making him steel-hard in his trousers.

"You are expected to fulfill your obligation to me, Mister Nott," she explained in a no-nonsense tone, "and provide a satisfying leg massage, per your card's requirements." She uncrossed her legs, and Theo had to back up to avoid being hit somewhere decidedly delicate by her knee. "Furthermore, I expect you to attend to my cunt with a moist clean cloth and your hands while you are down there. I am a bit sore after your vigorous love-making last round, and require you to carefully administer some tender loving care to the area."

Theo almost blew his load right then and there. His chest went tight, his breathing quickened, and his muscles bunched like a predator's as he tensed with a hungry anticipation. "As you command, my Queen," he whispered and dropped to his knees before her.

With an easy thought, he summoned a bottle of massage oil that matched her perfume – jasmine, a scent he would forever associate with her from tonight onward. Daphne smiled as he opened the top and inhaled, giving her a slow, sinful grin.

"You may need this," she offered, conjuring a fluffy, green hand towel into existence and handing it over to him.

He took it with a quick kiss to the back of her hand in thanks, and set it on the table beside her. He put the bottle of oil on the table too and then got down to the task of removing her heels. Making a game of it, Theo discovered that his witch was, in fact, ticklish on the bottom of her feet, right in the center of her arch. Of course, he exploited this weakness until she begged his indulgence to stop.

"You are a wicked man, my Theo," she gently chastised him. "I may have to add to your punishment."

He lit up like a Christmas tree. If he'd had a tail, it would have been wagging. "Yeah, punish me! I'll do anything you wish, my Queen - _anything_."

She lifted one bare foot and pressed it to his shoulder. This had the dual effect of raising her skirt and giving him a peek of what lay under her woolen skirt – absolutely nothing. Theo licked his lips, feeling the flood of saliva thickly coat his tongue. He wanted to taste her again this round... "Make me lick your pussy in punishment," he whimpered the plea, his cock twitching, his pre-come rubbing sticky and warm against his tip as he was confined by his tight pants.

"We will see, my Theo," Daphne coyly replied. "But first" – she wiggled her bare toes at him – "my massage. I find I have a need to be pampered by my lover."

Eagerly nodding, Theo grabbed the oil and got to work.

He started at his woman's heels and worked his way up, conscientious of his every touch upon her soft skin. He massaged the pads of her feet, gently rolled her ankles, and eased the strain in her calves. About half the way through, it occurred to him that her action card had given him not just an opportunity to sexually worship her body, but also to learn all about his lover. True, he'd given Daph the massage of her life last round, but to be completely honest, that had been mostly about coercing her into love-making, and binding her to him through the act. This time, he was devoted to the goal of bringing her pleasure for the fun of it. Specifically, he discovered the appropriate pressure with which to touch her, and how to make her feel at ease or arouse her just by tickling over certain areas, like the backs of her knees and the sensitive skin between each toe. He watched her reactions with careful assessment, loving the way her mouth twitched at least twice just before she burst into merry laughter, and how she unconsciously thrust her chest forward and leaned back further on her palms when he lightly caressed to stir her desire. The husky, deep moans that escaped her mouth during those times had him straining to yank his dick out of his trousers and thrust into her.

Balls, had he ever wanted a woman this much? He'd had his share since he'd become sexually active at the age of thirteen. Suffice to say, not once, with any of the others he'd taken to bed since, had he felt like _this_ – warm in the center of his chest, and desperate to please his partner. He'd never known love until now, although he'd secretly craved it all his life. It was frightening, but exciting at the same time.

Smoothing his way up her thighs, he parted them as wide as her skirt would allow. "May I?" he asked, fingering the hem, his implication clear – he wanted it over her hips so she would be bared to him.

Daphne's heated, blue gaze was locked onto his. "You may."

She raised her bum a fraction of an inch as he skimmed her skirt up and over her hips, moving very slowly, his stare never wavering from hers. "May I?" he asked, tilting his head slightly downward in a silent plea to look upon her naked lower body, playing his submissive role to the hilt.

She licked her lips. "You may."

Theo dropped his attention to her delicious pussy. The pink, denuded folds were glazed with a sheen of moisture, and her fleshy clit simply begged to be licked. Gods, she was pretty down here! The fact that he'd been the only man to fuck such a lovely place made her all the sweeter in his mind.

He conjured a warm, moist cloth to his hand, and held it before her slit. "May I?" he whispered the request, swallowing and trying to bring some moisture back to his mouth.

Her hand moved towards his hair, and her fingernails ran through the strands. She lightly scraped his scalp in passing, which elicited an unexpected, needy groan from his chest. "You may," she gave him permission.

With tender care, he swiped the cloth through her center, and then over her fleshy lips and around the rim of her opening, washing off the evidence of his previous claim. Doing so brought out a purely masculine possessiveness he'd never felt before. On the one hand, he was terribly disappointed and jealous that there would be no outward, physical proof that he'd been here at all. On the other, he was both greedy and anxious to fill her back up again and again with his cock and his come.

He brought his face closer, desiring to kiss and taste her again, but stopped just shy of his destination, remembering his role. "May I?" he asked, glancing up at her and licking his lips, his intention very clear.

His witch replied by widening her legs even further so he could fit his whole head between her thighs. Without waiting, he dipped down and in, pressing his mouth and nose to the soft tissues of her inner lips. Her arousal was a heady thing in the air between them, and on a deep inhale, he imprinted the scent of her musky, feminine fragrance, intoxicated by her natural perfume. Another groan escaped him as he sealed his lips over her clit and suckled very gently.

"Oh, _OH!_" Daphne cried out, falling back onto her elbows. "Yes, Theo, just like that!"

He did as bade, discovering all he could about her through this act. He stroked up and down her wet slit, lapping up her thick, luscious honey as it began to free-flow as her arousal grew higher and hotter. Her swollen clit throbbed with her accelerated heartbeat against his tongue. He nibbled at the puffy flesh, lathed over each parted lip, and tickled her narrow entrance. Her mewling cries grew louder with each passing second, her panting chest heaving as he traced circles over her rosy skin.

"I've never tasted anything so good. So hot and sweet," he murmured as he slowly licked up her frothy cream, his fingers gripping her thighs with almost bruising force to keep her still as she attempted to undulate against his mouth. "Mmmm. Your cunt is so delicious, Daphne." He pressed kisses over her opening, then thrust his tongue deep inside, curling it about to lap over every bit, erotically sampling her delicate flavors. "I could eat you for days, my sweet Queen."

With a wild moan, she fell flat onto her back on the table. "Oh, Circe, _yes!_ Fuck me with your tongue, Theo! Feast upon me!"

He pumped his tongue as deep as it could go into her, stroking in and out in a rhythm set to bring her quickly. Simultaneously, he rubbed at the tiny, sensitive bud at the top of her slit. She jerked against him, her back arching off the table, her gasps and cries filling the air as she teetered on the edge. With a final rasp across the inside roof of her opening, Daphne shattered, coming in his mouth with a scream of his name. Her fingernails cut gouges in the table top as her fingers curled, seeking to hold onto something.

Theo greedily drunk up her release, taking the syrupy goodness that flowed out of her into his mouth and savouring it before swallowing. His hands maintained a bruising pressure on her hips until her shuddering passed and she relaxed into the table, limp and sated.

Standing to his full height, Theo wiped his hands with the towel she'd provided earlier and then undid his belt buckle and dropped trow, stepping out of his shoes and his trousers and pants. He tossed his shirt over his head, uncaring where it landed and then stepped between Daphne's opened legs. His cock was so painfully hard that when it bumped against her, it actually hurt a bit.

"Undo your buttons for me," he commanded, switching roles now that she'd had her fun. It was his turn. "Now, sweetheart – quickly! I want to see your tits."

Moving a bit slow and with shaky fingers because of her recent exertions, it took her a few seconds to comply. She pulled the edges of her blouse aside and the cups of her bra down to show off those pretty, perky breasts of hers again.

"Yeah, that's perfect," he murmured, reaching up to pinch the nipples with light pressure. Daphne moaned and arched up into his touch. "I want you to perform my card for me now." He very softly slapped her tits to stimulate them. They went instantly tight against his fingers. "Come here and kiss me."

Her eyes widened in surprise that he'd turned things around on them, but she obeyed, performing a crunch and using her hands to support her sitting up.

Theo bent his head so she could meet him half way, as their arms went about each other and their lips met. Her kiss was enthralling; her tongue swept into his mouth, lashing against his in a bold dance, caressing and cajoling in a playful rhythm. He luxuriated in her taste, allowing her to sample the taste of her own body's essence at the same time as seducing him. When he felt she'd toyed enough with his senses, he took charge of the kiss, thrusting his need into her mouth and down her throat with a rumbling growl.

Daphne was panting again by the time his lips pulled away and lathed a path down her throat. Pulling her glasses from her nose, setting them on a nearby chair with a careful toss, he centered his mouth over her ear and pulled her in tighter, so his steely cock lay right against her wet clit. "Bite me and leave a mark," he demanded of her, as he reached down between them to rub his thick crest all up and down her slit.

She did as he wanted, her little teeth taking firm grip of the flesh over his pulse. It made his knees shake and shot his need straight through the bloody roof. Lining them up, he grabbed her hips and thrust as hard as he could, fucking bollocks deep. Her soft, spongy flesh parted, drenching him in liquid silk and clenching with tight velvet around his entire length. "God, yeah!" he roared as her fingernails scored his arms and her legs wrapped around his waist.

It didn't matter that they'd done this three times now, and that he should be drained and exhausted from coming so much in only two hours. He felt like it was the first time, and he couldn't get enough of her to satiate his raging desire. He shagged her so hard that the table moved, scooting across the floor with each brutal thrust until it hit the wall and stopped. Penetrating her thick, swollen depths, he shuttled in and out with a rapidly increasing pace until she was screaming and climaxing all over his cock.

The feel of her saturated flesh rolling along the edges of his penis and milking underneath the overly-sensitive head brought him with a loud, violent shout. "_OH FUCK, DAPHNE!" _He released his seed in powerful spurts deep inside of her cunt, continuing to pump in and out until he was totally drained and the elation passed over him, leaving him both breathless and boneless.

Collapsing against her shoulder, he held onto her in a tight embrace, allowing her strength to support them both and keep them upright. His heart beat at a rhythm that seemed impossible to maintain without exploding, and his lungs felt grated.

"Well," she gasped, still trying to catch her breath as well, "I believe this… is a… first for me… as well."

It took him several minutes to recover enough sanity and physical control to not only pull out, but reply. His limp, very tired cock slipped out of her as he moved. "Huh?"

Yeah, that was about the extent of his coherency at that moment.

"This was the first opportunity I have ever had to experience a sexual liaison in a library," she explained, "not to mention dressing up in a staff uniform."

Theo let out a weak laugh and grinned. "Hell, if Pince wore something as daring as this" – he indicated the wanton outfit which adorned his lover – "I think she'd have less of a reason to frown. Filch, too, for that matter."

Daphne rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Can we please not discuss their… relationship? The thought makes me slightly ill."

The chimes rang just then, and Theo sighed. With a sulky effort, he replaced his lover's breasts in her bra and re-buttoned her shirt, waving bye-bye to each nipple as they were hidden from view once more. Daphne laughed at his antics. To get even with her, he caressed his fingers up and down her slit once more, gathering up their combined come, and brought it to his lips, glossing them.

"Kiss," he bade her, tilting his head towards her.

His witch's eyes glowed with true happiness as she lifted her mouth to his and snogged him a good one. Her fingernails ran through his hair again, and he sighed in pleasure. Now _this_ was more like what he'd had in mind when he'd begun this whole game.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips. "So much, my Theo… my King."

He nuzzled his nose along the side of hers, feeling frisky and playful, despite his fatigue. "And I love you, sweetheart… even if you don't like to wear knickers and have a secret fixation for big, hairy half-giants."

Her surprised smile flittered across her cheeks. "Are you saying you do?"

He pinched her bum and helped her down from the table, righting her skirt. "Like to wear your knickers? Well, I've never tried, but I bet I would. They're all satiny…"

She slapped him on the arm.

"Oooh, you meant the fetish for Hagrid that you're secretly harboring in your heart?" he teased, as he moved to gather his clothing from the pile on the floor.

She slapped him from behind, upside the head this time.

"Help! Help! I'm being abused by my sexy dominatrix!" he joked as he slipped his legs into his pants and trousers, pulling them both up together. "That's it - I'm telling the Headmaster. Old Twinkly-Eyes will give you detention for sure!"

As he slipped his shirt back over his head, Daphne stepped into him and ran her fingernails lightly down his chest, tweaking his nipples. Theo gasped and moaned as the sensation shot straight to his dog-tired groin area.

"If so, perhaps I will be required to wax the table tops in the library again," she purred, lapping over his exposed nip. "Will you assist me with such a difficult chore, my Theo?"

He pulled his shirt over his body and grabbed his witch up, whisking them both around in a fast circle. Her arms automatically came around his neck and she laughed with unabashed joy. "Anytime you want, sweetheart! I'd love to get detention with you!" As he gathered her in his arms to carry her bridal-style, he grinned at her, heading for the exit. "You know, I think Pince might be smarter than I gave her credit, 'cause the library just became my new favourite place to visit."

* * *

**_TO BE CONTINUED…_**

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Musical Selection this Chapter: "Never Have I Ever" by Hot Chelle Rae. Lyrics are as follows...**

**Never ever before  
has a colorful world  
held a colorful girl like you.  
You gotta fly!**

**Never ever have I  
been just black or just white.  
All this freedom and flight has got me feeling high.**

**Never have I ever felt like this before!  
I've never been the one to knock, but now I'm at your door.  
Well, listen very closely you can hear the sound  
of a love that makes my heart beat, and my head spin 'round.  
Head spin 'round, spin 'round, spin 'round, spin 'round, 'round, 'round...  
I spin 'round, I spin 'round, I spin 'round.**

**(Let's all just turn into pure light!) **

**A passion runs from my heart.  
The room is spinning to red.  
The blood is leaving my head.  
You're such a chemical!**

**It feels like fire and ice.  
You bring my body to life.  
Bouncing into the night, just like a butterfly.**

**Never have I ever felt like this before! ****  
****I've never been the one to knock, but now I'm at your door. ****  
****Well, listen very closely you can hear the sound ****  
****of a love that makes my heart beat, and my head spin 'round. ****  
****Head spin 'round, spin 'round, spin 'round, spin 'round, 'round, 'round... ****  
****I spin 'round, I spin 'round, I spin 'round. **

**Never have I ever felt like this before! ****  
****I've never been the one to knock, but now I'm at your door. ****  
****Well, listen very closely you can hear the sound ****  
****of a love that makes my heart beat, and my head spin 'round. **

**Never have I ever felt like this before (this before)**  
**I've never been the one to knock but now I'm at your door (at your door).**  
**Well, listen very closely you can hear the sound (hear the sound)**  
**of a love that makes my heart beat, and my head spin 'round.**  
**Head spin 'round (spin 'round), spin 'round (spin 'round), spin 'round (spin 'round), spin 'round, 'round, 'round (spin 'round)...**  
**I spin 'round (spin round), I spin 'round (spin 'round), I spin 'round...!**


	49. Chapter 8E: Blaise & Ginny

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**Ceylon **__recommended the song __**"Your Song" by Parokya ni Edgar **__for Blaise & Ginny this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Blaise's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**Ceylon**__ - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK (rzzmg yahoo . com)! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised! Here are some of the entries so far: http:/ / s905 . photobucket . com / albums / ac260 / RZZMG / Eros%20Psyche / CONTEST%20IMAGES /**

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – Thank you once more taking time out of your busy schedule to beta this one for me! YOU ARE THE BEST!

**Important hints in this chapter, folks. Do you see them? ****PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHT (#****5): Blaise & Ginny**

Blaise was utterly content with the path his life had taken tonight. To think, this time three months ago he'd been contemplating suicide. Thank Merlin he hadn't gone through with such an idiotic plan.

He'd hit a low then, contemplating graduation and all that meant for him: having to go home and face his mother and siblings, knowing his secret would be sniffed out by one of them eventually, worrying about what that confrontation would mean for his future, and knowing he'd rarely see Ginevra again. The thought that the witch of his every fantasy would probably take another lover, and that there would be nothing he could do to prevent it… It had eaten at him until he'd become embittered and desperate. He'd wallowed in his pain, dredging up all of the horrible things he'd had to do on account of his cursed magical energies, and there had been a lot of self-hate going on.

Now, he had a fresh perspective on his life, and was beginning to understand that if the bad things in his past hadn't occurred, he wouldn't have Ginny now. If not for being awoken early to his sex-magic, he wouldn't have become aware of his lioness' importance in his life two years ago; he'd probably have just looked at her like any other witch until he'd hit seventeen and his powers had fully manifested. If things had run their usual course, he most likely would have lost all control, the Veela within taking over to claim its recognized mate without care or patience. It would have been an ugly thing, forced - a bad way to start a life-long relationship. Worse, once he'd inadvertently awoken her own Sex-Witch abilities by claiming her, he wouldn't have been able to help her temper them, because he'd have lacked the necessary skills that took years of practice and discipline to achieve. They might have really hurt each other if things had gone according to the natural plan.

So, yes, it had sucked losing his virginity the way he had, and the last few years had been filled with awful games of lies and seduction to get what he'd needed to survive, but he saw it all now as his trial by fire, leading him towards _this night_ – towards _this girl_ who lay snuggled in his arms in bed now. He was finally coming to peace with his past, setting his anger and distaste for his family and his fate as a Sex-Warlock practitioner into its proper place, and forgiving himself for all of the things he'd been made to do since the age of thirteen in order to endure.

It was all coming together for him… finally.

Ginny sighed with contentment, as he ran his fingers through her long hair. _I know exactly how that feels,_ he thought, a tired smile turning up his lips. He'd never truly felt as if he'd belonged anywhere – until now.

He took these precious moments of silence between them to touch his lover as he'd always wanted, and to learn every curve of her body. She was a bit more muscular than his wank-fantasy version of Ginevra Weasley, and her hands were calloused from Quidditch, but he found he _liked_ that she wasn't a lump of butter. It had been the steel in her spine and her healthy glow that had attracted him to her from the start. That and that smart mouth of hers, of course.

Stones, she really was lovely – a contradiction at every turn: Petite, yet strong. Honest to the core, yet capable of great mischief. Sensual, yet still able to blush with shyness. His lovely witch was an everyday girl, yet unlike any in the crowd. And she was _his_, at long last.

Nothing and no one would ever take her from him now, he vowed.

"Tell me more about your family."

Just like that, his happy glow was snuffed.

Ginny sat up on one elbow and looked down at him with an impish face that was hard to refuse.

He rubbed a weary hand over his face. "You really don't want to go there, kitten - trust me."

What do you know? He was wrong. She _did_ want to go there.

Her face settled with annoyance. "Wearing the big girl pants, remember?"

Yes, she'd said she wanted honesty from him in all things, so despite his internal concerns he'd opened his soul to her by divulging his deviant sexual history already, but this… Shite. She was going to push this, too, wasn't she? Fuck. She was. And she was going to run for the hills once she learned all about Carmen and her spider brood, he just knew it.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

Taking a deep breath, he plunged into the darkness that was his family life. "My mother's name is Carmen Zabini. She's a Sex-Witch licensed and practicing the craft in Italy, as you know. Her mother was a Veela – one of the Delacour from France - who caught the attention of the wealthy Zabini heir. Long story short, my grandmother seduced my grandfather using her 'talents'. Mamma was born soon after, and as a half-Veela, she inherited the powers of sex-magic. She's used those powers to build the Zabini dynasty."

He stared up at the ceiling, casting his distaste into the illusionary clouds that hovered at the top of the room. "As I told you at the start of the night, she's been married seven times now – all wealthy purebloods, the lot. They're from all over: Spain, America, England, Morocco, Sweden, Germany, and Russia. She's never changed her last name for any of her husbands, but she did give each one an heir to inherit their family fortunes. She's also slept with just about every unmarried man who's passed through the Italian Ministry for the last twenty-five years. She's amassed a pile of riches and made strong political connections that way." He grimaced. "I call her a Black Widow because she's killed off five of her seven ex-husbands in various 'accidents'. My father narrowly escaped her attempt to off him soon after I was born. He buggered back to Morocco after that, and I didn't see him again until the summer between third and fourth year. She's set in November to marry another man – her long-time paramour, a Sex-Warlock who lives in Rome. He'll be husband number eight."

"You don't like her." Ginny didn't even phrase that as a question, as the answer was obvious.

Blaise sniffed. "I don't really think the woman knows how to love. I _do_ know that she poisons everything around her, turning people inside out, using them to get her ambitions met - anything to stay on top of the mountain." An odd thought occurred to him then. "If she'd gone to school at Hogwarts instead of Beauxbatons, she'd have been sorted into my House without a doubt."

"Funny how there's seven children in both of our families," she noted with a small chuckle. "What was it like growing up with mostly sisters? I'm the only girl. I always wanted a sister."

Blaise chuckled as he thought about it. "My two older sisters – Maria and Diana - are twenty-one and twenty, respectively. They're _Geminio_ copies of my mother in personality, although they look different because of their fathers. One's a blonde with green eyes, the other is dark haired and dark-eyed. My three youngest sisters are fourteen, ten, and six years old – Ebbe, Raina, and Anya. They're a handful – always getting into mischief. Ebbe has a head for numbers, Raina is a Diva in the making, but my favourite is Anya, the youngest. She's shy and sweet-tempered, doesn't talk much, and she likes to draw. She likes to make people happy." He felt the frown pulling at his lips. "I hope my mother doesn't crush that out of her as she gets older."

"Wait, one of your sisters is fourteen? But you're the only Zabini in school here," Ginny pointed out.

"She's at Beauxbatons," he informed her. "Mother insists that the girls all go there, where she went. Lorenzo went to Durmstrang, and she sent me to Hogwarts – to make sure she had connections at all three magical schools… to give her a reason to visit, and get involved in the politics."

"And… your brother?" she hedged.

That jealous pit in Blaise's belly opened up again. "We're not close, despite the fact he'd have made the perfect Slytherin – or maybe because of it, I'm not sure. In a phrase, he's charming, attractive, and ruthless. He sets his mind to having something, and he gets it - and doesn't care about collateral damage. At twenty-three, he's had twice the number of lovers I have, but I don't sense a Sex-Warlock about him. I think it's just who and what he is that draws partners in. He's mother's favourite, of course."

With gentle affection, Ginny touched her fingertips to his lips. "I don't see how that could be. He sounds dreadful." She heaved a great sigh. "I'm sorry for bringing the subject up at all."

Turning into her palm, Blaise pressed a kiss on the inside of her wrist. "Don't be. You'll need to know these things, because unfortunately, it'll be impossible to altogether escape my family. But, I don't think my mother will 'out' us for what we are, especially now that we're mated. She _will _try to use it, though." Her eyes flared with concern. He snuggled closer to reassure her. "I'll run interference as best as I can, but there are going to be times you'll have to face her or my siblings and hold your own." He gave her his most brilliant smile of encouragement. "I don't envy them facing your temper."

His lioness snickered, accepting his compliment with a wicked smile.

They remained quiet for a bit after that, just touching, learning the shape of each other's curves and angles. She pinched his cheek. He tweaked her freckled nose. They caressed not just with fingers, but with magical auras, determining the breadth of the others' powers in small, tender strokes and fondling. Feeling the way in which their auras entwined, encountering the proof of their souls' connection was mesmerizing, and unexpectedly erotic. Blaise had never experienced anything so moving in all his life as those few minutes of silent discovery.

He could feel Ginny's uneasiness slide through her aura, though, and knew she was turning over ideas that didn't settle well.

"Ask me," he whispered, coaxing her to give up her secret thoughts.

"I… Well, why hasn't your mum figured out what you are yet, if she's that powerful? I mean, I could feel that you were somehow different from everyone else prior to tonight, and my abilities hadn't even woken up yet. Your aura has always been like a… a _vibrating hum_ against mine."

Reaching up, he nudged aside a long strand of hair that fell against her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. "That's because I've been focused on _you _for two years. You were sensing my desire for you, without realizing it. As for my family, I've been very careful to dim down my aura when I'm around them. They know I've got the potential to be a Sex-Warlock – there's no completely hiding it - but they think it's either still waiting to manifest, or that it never will. As I told you, sex-magic is a gift of Veela heritage, and the Veela traits are female-dominant. Males born to such women may not ever manifest their powers, and those that do, usually it's because another sex-magic practitioner has had sex with them. When two sex-magic users touch, it begins to 'awaken' their abilities. When they fuck, the gift fully manifests. At least, that's how Madame Aset explained it."

"So that's why I've been able to kind of sense your moods over the past two years!" she acknowledged. "We were in physical contact a lot because of Quidditch. My sex-magic didn't fully awaken, though, until we touched each other with equal desire tonight."

He nodded. "As I said, it was my fault that your powers woke up early a few hours ago. I'm also betting that's why none of your brothers are Sex-Warlocks: they've never realized their abilities because they're not with Sex-Witches. Well, all except that one married to that quarter-Veela sister-in-law of yours - she most likely woke up something in him when they first went at it – that is, if he was born with the gift."

A frown marred Ginny's face. "So, you said your powers 'woke up' at the age of thirteen after… what happened to you in the showers. That means Bole or Derrick was a Sex-Warlock, doesn't it?"

Blaise's chest tightened at the memory once more. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to get over what had happened to him, even if he understood its place in his history. "I've been wagering for years that it was Bole. Of the two, he seemed the more obsessed with shagging everything that moved. After he graduated, I know he married his classmate, Amelia Greengrass. From what I've heard through the Slytherin grapevine, he's turned the girl into a depraved sex addict over the years - hard-core BDSM shite, where she's the willing submissive and does whatever he wants. She lets him abuse her, tie her up, pass her around to his friends, and he also uses her to seduce people for him. That kind of thing sounds much too similar to what my mother and my older siblings have been up to for me to think it pure coincidence. Bole _has_ to be the one."

"Have you ever confronted him or Derrick?" his lioness asked. "I mean, now that you're older and have control of your abilities."

The thought made a core of ice run through Blaise's chest. "No, and I'd rather not see the man ever again, honestly. He and his warped wife deserve each other, as far as I'm concerned."

Ginny's face took on a concentrated expression. "Amelia _Greengrass_, you said? She's Daphne's sibling?"

"Oldest of the three," he confirmed.

She lay back and stared up at the ceiling, thoughts filled with concern etched across her pretty features. "I didn't know that sex-magic could do that – change a personality with such drastic consequences."

Blaise rolled onto his side, propping his head up on a hand, and stared down at her. "I'll tell you what Madame Aset told me several years ago: orgasms are powerful and influential experiences for the human psyche. Sex-magic's sole purpose is to induce them in you and your partners so the part of you that's Veela can feed off of the energy. As a result, it's easy to become addicted to the high you get from such magic. It's like a drug in that it can enslave by provoking pleasure. If you're not aware of its influence over you, it can enthrall you just as much as your companions." He pushed a long strand of ginger-black hair back from her forehead with a tender touch. "For some people, like Bole, it can also be wielded as a persuasive tool. He can make his partners crave what he can give them so much that they're willing to try out or continue to do things that might have been morally questionable or repulsive otherwise. That's why it's so important to know how to control it – so you don't become a victim to it, or make your sexual partners victims to it."

His brave Gryffindor tried to hide her fear, but she was too honest in her feelings to completely mask it. "Did I make you a victim when I woke up?" She gripped his hand and held it tight. "I didn't… force you, did I? The first time, I mean."

Blaise shook his head. "Hard to force the willing, kitten. Yeah, it was unexpected when your desire amplified mine, but that's our nature. It's what we do. If anything, _I_ should have been in better control of the situation as the more experienced one. I took you rather hard." He cupped her sex and rubbed over it in a tender manner, not wanting to enflame her desire – the need to fuck had been sated for the present – but to let her know that he cherished her. "Are you still hurting?"

When she made to tell him that she wasn't – a blatant fib to salve his concerns – he stopped her with a knowing look.

"I'm… sore," she admitted, dropping her gaze to his chest, a pretty blush creeping up her cheeks. "All over, though. Not just there." With a naughty, sudden shift, she glanced up at him through her thick lashes and grinned. "Are _you_ sore?"

Fresh minx! Blaise chuckled. "Aching all over," he exaggerated with waggling eyebrows. "In fact, I think I'm officially done in. I'm sure I'll never recover."

She gave him a playful smack on his hip in chastisement. "Liar, liar, pants on fire. You have more stamina than a horse. In fact…" Her teeth nibbled upon her bottom lip then and he knew she was up to no good. With a stroke over his shaft, she had his tired length stirring.

Blaise groaned and fell across her in exaggerated exhaustion. "Woman, you'll be the end of me!"

Writhing about, she managed to get her arms and legs around him, and pulled him into her in a fierce hug. "I hope not, but if you've got to go-" She wiggled her hips against him, fitting him perfectly into the cradle between her thighs, pressing him directly over her damp core. "-at least it'll be with a smile! And what a _handsome _smile it is, Mister Zabini."

Sitting up on his elbows, he stared down at the woman who was going to be his lifelong companion – his lover until the moment of his last breath – and marveled at his luck. How had he managed this one, he'd never know… but he certainly had this blessed game to thank for it.

"I'll give you that forever, my lioness," he promised her, and dropped his lips onto hers, kissing her with his whole heart in his mouth.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Musical Selection for this Chapter: **_**"Your Song" by Parokya ni Edgar.**_** Lyrics are as follows…**

_**It took one look…**_  
_**and forever lay out in front of me.**_  
_**One smile, then I die…**_  
_**only to be revived by you.**_

_**There I was,**_  
_**thought I had everything figured out.**_  
_**Goes to show just how much I know**_  
_**'bout the way life plays out.**_

_**I take one step away,**_  
_**and I find myself coming back to you.**_  
_**My one and only…**_  
_**One and only you.**_

_**Now I know that I know not a thing,**_  
_**not at all…**_  
_**except the fact that I am yours,**_  
_**and that you are mine.**_

_**Oh, you told me that it wouldn't be easy.**_  
_**And no, I'm not one to complain.**_

_**I take one step away,**_  
_**and I find myself coming back to you.**_  
_**My one and only…**_  
_**One and only…**_

_**I take one step away,**_  
_**then I find myself coming back to you.**_  
_**My one and only…**_  
_**One and only you.**_


	50. Chapter 8F: Seamus & Lavender

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__Users __**emilyneal **__and __**MissGumiho **__recommended the song, __**"**_**Your Guardian Angel**_**" by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus **__for Seamus & Lavender this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Seamus' thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**emilyneal **__and __**MissGumiho **__- congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

**Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published.** **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! **

P.S. _**Unseenlibrarian**_ – Couldn't have done this chappy without you. You are my miracle worker, my savior, and the funny in my 'funny bone'. Thank you!

**PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter, folks?**

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHT (#6): Seamus & Lavender**

Seamus watched as Lavender stomped through the door to their private room, her anger like a wave of heat trailing behind her. She was going to yell at him the second the door locked behind them. He could just feel it.

Wand in one hand, _Deeds_ card tucked into his back pocket, he followed his partner, holding back his own hot emotions and girding himself up for the fight to come.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, she turned on him, throwing her card down on the floor without reading it.

"How dare you! You embarrassed me!"

He gave her a flat stare, feeling that same, odd darkness hovering around the edges of his vision that he'd been sensing for the last two rounds. He fought it off, not liking its influence on his mood. "I told ya already, Lavender: I'll not be havin' ya sniffin' after Zabini."

Her frown deepened. "First of all, don't be disgusting. I'm not 'sniffing after' Blaise. I can't help it if I notice things about people. And for your information, I wasn't looking at just him. I spotted the love bites on Ginny's neck, too. Second, you have no rights to lord over me. Who do you think you are? You don't own me, Finnegan. I can look at whomever I wish, whenever I want, and gossip about it later if I choose. It's not your business."

Seamus' temper was getting the best of him. He could feel the jealousy burning in his guts, and roiling around in his head every time his woman so much as mentioned the Italian's name. "Blaise Zabini is off-limits," he snarled, stepping towards her and pointed an emphatic finger in her face. "No more thinkin' about him, or even talkin' about him. He's me line in th' sand, witch!"

Her face had gone white in the face of his fury, and her eyes grew wide in shock. She gaped at him, taken aback by his vehement outburst.

"What is _wrong _with you?" she whispered, her voice filled with nervous apprehension. "You've been acting strange for the last few rounds, and now…" She took several steps back, teetering on her heels, and brought her arms up to wrap around her middle in a protective gesture. "Sea, what's going on? This… I've never seen you act this way before. I don't even know who you are right now!"

Oh, he knew what was wrong with him. He'd finally figured it out during this last question round, when he'd felt the jealousy scalding through his guts at the moment Lavender's gaze had latched on to her former Slytherin lover. Seamus' possessive instincts had screamed at him to push her down and fuck her into the couch, so she'd know to whom she belonged. Along for that irrational ride came the memory of her honey flavour on his tongue. His saliva had flooded his mouth as he recalled the taste, he'd gotten an instant hard-on… and the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place in his head.

His Gram and his Mam had both cautioned him when he'd gone through puberty at the age of fourteen to tamp down the worst of his inherited compulsions, lest they begin to exert control over him – or worse, come to dominate his will, enslaving him until he behaved little better than a fiend. Until tonight, he hadn't really thought their warnings completely credible, though. After all, it wasn't as if he was full-blooded 'other' like his Gram, and the only traits he'd seemed to receive from that side of the family had been his more pleasurable cravings.

But shite, he was definitely considering their words of advice now – and with all seriousness.

"Is tha' yer question fer me this round? Yer freebie ta put ta me any one thang ya want an answer ta?" he asked.

Lavender's hands ran up and down her arms, as if to warm them. "Yes. I want to know what's wrong with you – what's caused you to be so up and down over the last few rounds, and to blow up like this. Your emotions are… well, it's like what Trelawney says: feelings have energy. And right now, your anger is shocking my nerves, like miniature Stinging Hexes or something."

Seamus took a deep breath, filling his lungs to the brim, and let it out in a slow exhale, seeking to calm his anxiety. He filed his resentment and his wrath away, and put the situation in its proper perspective.

From the time of his first wet dream, the hypersexuality imparted by his unique blood lineage had merely seemed a fun gift – one he'd taken full advantage of with loads of women over the past four years. His Mam had warned him that one day when his heart had finally settled on a female, he'd discover that perk a double-edged sword, however, as the jealousy and possessiveness common in her heritage would go hand-in-hand with the level of his desire for his lover.

Now, Seamus understood what his mother's warnings meant. His feelings for Lavender had built slowly, and grown powerful enough over the years to elicit a reaction the likes of which he'd never felt for any other female, not even Madeline Fletcher that one time…

It was time to tell Lavender his family's secret. Holding it back was only going to continue the misunderstandings between them, and his feelings had reached a point where she needed to comprehend what he was going through. No more stalling. He'd promised them both complete honesty, and he meant to keep that vow, even if it should bite him in the arse later.

He indicated that his lovely, blonde partner should sit on the bed and get comfortable. Looking over her shoulder at where he pointed, she hesitated though, clearly not on-board with that plan.

"If ya want yer answer, I've got ta confess the whole thang ta ya, love, and it's quite a tale. Ya'll not be wantin' ta stand in heels fer that long, I'm thinkin'," he explained, his tone and demeanor much calmer now that he'd decided on a course of action. That wasn't to say he wasn't a tad nervous at the prospect of spilling his guts, however. A tick had formed in his left cheek over the last few minutes, and it was hell to get it to relax.

Although the fear was gone from her face, the mistrust was back in Lavender's eyes. She sat down anyway and waited for his next move.

Seamus ran a hand up and over his face, and through his hair, mussing it. Where to start?

"Angel, ya know how some families have secrets in their past tha' they don't want the world knowing, so they keep 'em tight ta their chests 'til there's cause ta be tellin' 'em? Like… like Ron's sister-in-law, the witch who's part-Veela? Tha' sort of secret, ya know?"

His partner's lips tightened and she sat up straighter, giving a single nod.

"Well, th' Finnegan's have kinda got one of them, too," he admitted. His face cringed, as he dropped the truth between them like a ton of bricks. "It's me Gram on me Mam's side. She's… not like us. She's one o' the _Na Síogaí_."

One quizzical golden eyebrow lifted. "And that is…?" she asked the leading question, obviously not comprehending Irish Gaelic nor having knowledge of the legends of his homeland to recognize the term. Being English, she hadn't been raised with the same superstitions and legends as he had in Ireland, so Seamus didn't take offence. He'd be surprised in fact, if any of his classmates actually recognized the term.

Summoning a stool behind him, he hopped onto it, consigning himself to a long discussion. "Er… one o' the fairy folk. A nymph o' the Meliai tribe, ta be exact."

She blinked, not understanding the connection.

"Tha' makes me a quarter Fae."

Lavender's eyes went round and her pink mouth parted in astonishment as she finally understood what he was getting at.

"And, well, sex and sweets are ta th' Fae an addiction, yeah? Like… well, like Wormwood ta a potions addict. It's the nature o' th' Fae ta want th' rush o' blood tha' orgasm an' consumin' large quantities o' sugar gives." He summoned a Sugar Quill with a thought and twirled it around between his fingers. "I… kinda… inherited tha' part o' their charm once I hit puberty – both fer sweets and sex."

His partner looked skeptical. "Are you seriously telling me _that's_ your excuse for getting around as much as you have: 'the sex is in your blood,' like some kind of Veela?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling sheepish. "Well, yeah, I'm kinda a sex addict. I'll rightly admit ta it. And yeah, it's a lot ta do wit' me blood. If ya'd remember yer D.A.D.A. classes, angel, ya'd know tha' the Fae are distant cousins ta th' Veela, but no th' same thang. Their magic is different."

His partner's eyes narrowed and grew distant, and he knew she was trying to recall the details they'd learned over the years regarding the various Magical Beings that shared the world with wizards and witches. "I already knew that the Fae used their magic to craft Nature to their needs. But Veela… what did Lupin say? They concentrate their magic on sexuality and beauty to attract mates, feeding off of the energy from them to survive."

Seamus nodded. "Yeah, pure-blood Veela are really ugly under the façade – they look like Harpies when they get angry, dontcha know. Tha's their real selves under the glamour. Their magic gives 'em beauty so they can attract others ta them. The _Na Síogaí_ are already beautiful, though, so they use their magic ta make their _surrounding's_ attractive ta mates. And they actually consume food ta survive instead o' siphonin' energy offa others." He licked the lolli in his hand, craving the sweet taste of it just in looking at it. "Me Gram's tribe, the Meliai – they're o' th' woodland nymphs, and they prefer ta eat honey o'er anythang else in the world. They're right mad fer it, in fact." He twirled the Quill around between his fingers, and the golden colour of it shimmered in the magical firelight from the hearth nearby. "Me, I'll jus' take sugar anyway I can get it."

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them for a good long minute before Lavender finally cleared her throat. "So… what does this have to do with your moodiness over the last few rounds?"

Embarrassment flooded his cheeks. He tugged at his shirt's collar, and unfastened the top two buttons to let in some air. "So, um, ya know tha' me feeling's fer ya were strong a'fore th' game, yeah?" She nodded. "Well, th' more I touch ya now, the stronger they're gettin'. I'm startin' ta become as obsessed wit' ya as I am fer this" –he held up the Sugar Quill- "only wit' ya, there's feeling's tha' come along fer the ride, too. The legend says it's the curse o' being one o' the fairy folk tha' they bond ta others wit' frequent touch, and if there's sex involved in th' touchin', it makes th' connection e'en stronger. Three times spillin' me seed inta a woman's womb, an' I'm hers - she'll own me heart forever. Tha's what me Gram warned me anyway, when I was jus' fourteen and come inta me own as a man. I was ne'er quite sure if she was tellin' the whole truth, or jus' tryin' ta keep me from being a randy bastard, but I hedged me bets anyway o'er th' years. Tha's why I've never slept wit' th' same women more 'n twice."

Brown glanced down at her feet, wiggling her toes. Her arms had dropped from around her, and were now lying in her lap. Her hands were twisting the satin sheets in a tight grip that whitened her knuckles. "So, you're saying that touching me is bonding you to me? Did you know this would happen?"

Ach, now there was a question that could get him into big trouble. However, he had no choice but to answer it, since he'd promised her honesty. "I suspected, angel, but no, I dinna know fer absolute certain until just a few minutes ago, when we had our fight out yonder, in th' main room. I've ne'er felt this particular way fer any other woman. An' as I said, I always thought me Gram might be pullin' me leg a bit."

She bit her lower lip, and looked as if she had more to ask. He patiently waited her out.

"We've had sex once already," she reminded him. "Are you saying that if we do it two more times, then…?"

He sucked on the lolli for a bit before answering the question they both already knew the answer to. "I'll be yers, 'til th' end. At least, me heart tells me so."

She stared at him as if she was struggling to believe what he was saying. "And you're sure that this – you being part-Fae - is the reason why you're so jealous about me and Blaise?"

"Don't," he growled, pulling the Sugar Quill out of his mouth and sitting up straighter. "Don't refer ta the two o' ya again, angel. It's… makin' me crazed thinkin' o' tha' man touchin' ya! It's bad enough I know ya was with me mate, Ron. It scunders me ta accept even tha' much."

"But you didn't seem to mind before!" she protested. "We even talked about it!"

He adamantly shook his head. "Tha' was a'fore I tasted yer sweet cunnie and addicted meself ta ya. Now…" A rumbling sound emitted from his throat, and he felt a flush of heat run through his system. "Yer _mine._"

Her face went absolutely blank for a moment, and then she abruptly stood up.

"Right."

She headed for the door.

Seamus dropped everything in his hands, was off the stool, and caught her up in his arms from behind before he even realized he'd moved. Her whole body shuddered upon the contact, as if he'd hit her with some sort of magic spell that had her nerves twitching.

"Where do ya think yer goin', love?"

"This is insane," she explained, trembling in his embrace. "Let me go, Finnegan."

He pressed his mouth to her ear, panting with both anxiety and frustration, his cock hard just from being this close to her. "I've no made any o' this up, Lavender! It's all true. I swear it on me honour."

Lavender swallowed and it was a heavy, wet sound. "I believe you, Sea. That's not why I'm forfeiting. I'm leaving because I'm afraid for _you_ and for what this means for us. If we continue in this game, we're going to have sex today, and you know it." Her head dipped downward, and a curtain of her long, blonde hair fell forward. "I don't want some freaky magic playing with our feelings for each other. I mean, you're talking about tying yourself to me for life! Doesn't that frighten you in the least?"

He took a few seconds to think about it. "No. You'd think it would, but…" He shrugged. It didn't bother him at all, actually. In fact, it almost felt fated or something. He'd been after this witch since he first began thinking of women in a sexual manner, and over the years since, he'd never really stopped wanting her. Something about her called to him.

She stiffened and slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder at him, brushing back her hair. "You say that now, but you're only eighteen-"

"Nineteen in October," he reminded her.

"Besides, we just started up this relationship again, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that kind of a… a permanent commitment right now, either," she admitted, sounding sensible despite her obvious panic. "I've only just turned eighteen, and… and… I have plans for my life after Hogwarts."

She was going to leave him. He could feel it deep in his bones. The thought of being parted from her again after having just reconnected ratcheted his emotions up by notches. "We can talk about this, angel," he quickly countered. "Come back ta th' bed – I'll make it a couch, yeah? We can sit and jus' talk. We don't have ta touch. _Please._"

Her body gave another long shudder against him as his fingers caressed down her arms. "Godric, what are you doing to me?" she gasped. "It feels like my entire body is wracked with tiny electric shocks! Why does this keep happening?"

Confused by her statement, Seamus slowly turned her in his arms to face him. "Wha' do ya mean by 'keep happenin''?" he asked, tilting her chin up with two fingers so she would meet his gaze. "How long have ya been feelin' like this?"

Lavender stepped back and wrapped her arms around her middle again, her shaking tapering off the moment his fingers left off their contact with her. "Every time you've touched me since… well, that night two years ago. I didn't feel it until after you'd left. And that day in Charms class this week, when you ran your finger down my back – it happened then, too. Whenever you touch me, tingles shoot up and down my spine. It's gotten more and more powerful as the game has gone on tonight, though."

He frowned over that. "Does it hurt?"

His partner shook her head, and a blush bloomed across her cheeks. "Actually, it's very arousing."

Seamus' mood shifted just like that. His eyes dropped to her belly, and then crept lower. "Really? Are ya wet fer me, just from me touch?" he whispered, feeling a shot of lust in his groin at the idea. The idea of her honey-sweet pussy juice flowing across her denuded folds had him salivating.

His witch's eyes dropped to his obvious arousal, and she unconsciously licked her lips. "Yes."

A decision hovered on the tip of his tongue. Should he? Shouldn't he?

Ach, to balls with it!

"Do ya want ta know what me card allowed this round, Lavender?" he asked, a suggestive pitch to his voice. Silently, he willed her to take the bait, hoping, praying…

As if pulled by an invisible tether towards him, she moved to close the gap that she'd earlier put between them. "I probably shouldn't, but tell me."

He lifted his heated gaze to hers, seeing her eyes flare wide with a matching passion, and recalled the text of his card for her:

_**DEED: Fuck your partner. Come if you both want. **_

Her smooth, pink tongue peeked out and swept across her top lip again. "Wanna know mine?"

He gave a slow nod.

She told him:

_**DEED: Caress every inch of your partner's naked body on the outside.**_

His mouth turned up at the corners. "Ya can do yers while we do mine," he offered, throwing her his best, most sinful smile.

Lavender's lovely indigo-coloured gaze was glazed with need, and troubled by doubt. "It'll be twice if we-"

He reached out and cupped her cheek. "I know. But we can do this without fear o' forever bindin' me ta ya yet. 'Sides, if I pull out and don't release inside ya, then we can buy e'en more time fer us ta decide if this love is wha' we want fer th' long-haul." He curled her into his body with his other arm, pulling them together, and dropped his forehead to hers. "Let me give ya this, me love. Let me make up fer our first time now tha' I know what ta do, and how ta love ya like ya deserve. There's nothing in this world I want more, sweet angel, than ta see ya come under me, while I'm inside ya – ta know I made it good fer ya."

"You'll pull out?" she asked in a nervous whisper.

He hated the idea, personally. A part of him wanted nothing more than to orgasm inside of her over and over until they were both bound up so tightly together that there would be no question of either of them walking away, but Seamus also realized that those feelings were partially driven by the Fae instinct to bond. He'd always wanted this woman, yes, but the irrational need to claim her _right now_ was being forced upon him as well. It would be better for them to just enjoy the sex, experiencing what they could from it given their limitations, and through their intimacy, slowly bring her to the realization that they could work long-term. He wanted her love to be given over to him honestly, not rushed.

"I promise not to spill me seed inta ya if we have sex right now," he vowed, stroking over her neck and shoulder with a light touch. "I want ta give ya the time ya need to know me in every way, so ya can decide upon us naturally."

"Can I be on top?" she requested.

He pressed a small kiss to her mouth. "Absolutely, angel. An' I'll warn ya before I come."

Her shaky breath was warm against his cheek as she quickly exhaled. "I know I want you. I have for what seems forever, Sea. I'm just… I'll admit that I'm scared." Her hands slid up his chest, and her fingernails kneaded into his pectorals with a light grip. "But, as long as you're sure that it's safe to do this, I want to have you again."

That was all he needed to hear.

Burrowing his fingers in her hair, he gripped the golden strands and tugged her head back, positioning her mouth at the perfect angle. Dropping his head, his lips covered hers and he stole her breath. She tasted like everything sweet he'd ever craved, and that magical hold upon his heart tightened as he feasted upon her wet, lush kisses.

Making quick work of her halter, he had her dress fluttering to the ground with a few well-placed yanks. Her bra followed in a rush, exposing her taut, ripe nipples for his mouth's delight. Leaning forward, he licked the tip of first one, then the other. Curling his tongue around the dusky-pink bud, he suckled with gentle pressure.

Lavender shuddered in his arms and cried out his name in a demand for more. "No worries, sweet lass. I'll take care o' ya," he promised, gathering her up and walking them towards the bed. His mouth returned to its nursing as he laid her back into the soft mattress.

Writhing against the hard line of his body as it covered hers, his witch arched and cried out as he nipped and bit at one nipple, while he plucked at the other with his hand. When he'd reddened them both with his teeth, tongue, and the suction of his lips, he raised his head to her throat, and carved a path over it with the same intensity. Her nails raked across his skull, and her fingers tangled up in his hair and pulled him in closer as he sucked hard over her pulse, leaving behind a love bite. He continued to tease her nipples all the while.

"Are ya achin' yet, me love?" he teased, raising his mouth to her ear and licking over the lobe as he pinched her nips. Her reaction was to moan and grind her pelvis up into his with force. "Tha's me girl, Lavender. Love what I do ta ya, sweet angel. Love it all."

He drove his mouth over hers with a fiery passion, sliding his hands down her waist to grip the edges of her panties. These were coming off. Right. Now.

As he lowered his body to pull her knickers from her, his lips marked a lazy, wet downward path. When he came upon them, he kissed and traced the delicate bones of her collar, and the undersides of her breasts. Descending further, he licked circular patterns over her abdomen, and rimmed her bellybutton, surprised to note that she tasted sweet even there. As he settled further down her body, reaching the trim of dark gold curls at the top of her cunnie, he let his tongue play in the soft thatch. Sliding her lacy-satiny lingerie from her ankles at last, he brushed across the fleshy, wet knot of sensitive skin at the top of her seam with a full stroke of his tongue.

Lavender practically came off the bed, giving a keening wail of delight.

"So good, Sea! Oh, gods, you're so good at this! You make me die for more," she panted, grabbing hold of the sheets and twisting hard against them. "Don't stop, _please!_"

He watched up the length of her golden body as he drew the little nub into his mouth and suckled upon it. At the same time, his fingers pierced her from below, thrusting hard into the luscious depths of her soaking quim. He moaned as the feel and smell and taste of her desire swirled all around him. His lover was honey-sweet - like she'd been made just for him and his bloody Fae cravings. Another groan rumbled from his chest as he pumped his fingers in and out, lapping downwards to collect the creamy nectar that came from deep within her body.

Gods, he could eat this girl's pussy forever!

She was close. He could feel the constriction around his fingers, heard her whimpering pleas to go faster and suck harder. He eased off instead, prolonging her burning edge for when his cock was deep within her and he could feel her squeeze around his shaft. He wasn't sure she'd have it in her to orgasm again tonight, as he could feel her exhaustion. This game had taken it out of them, and they'd only been at it for a little more than nine hours.

Withdrawing his fingers and his lips from her delicious folds, he stood up and began removing his clothing.

Lavender didn't seem upset that he'd reset her impending climax as she sat up on her elbows and watched him, legs spread wantonly open. "You want to leave my heels on then?" she asked, giving him a naughty smile.

He'd forgotten all about them, honestly. As he shucked his shirt from his shoulders and tossed it to the ground, he let his gaze wander to her shoes. The heels were sexy, yeah, but she had such lovely, graceful feet. He wanted her completely nude this first time; only her jewelry would remain touching her skin. He bent and undid the pearl buttons around the clasp, and she leaned up to remove them and throw them off the edge of the bed.

"Your turn," she purred, the hunger in her gaze nearly burning him up.

He unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped, and then pulled his slacks and his pants off together. His shoes and socks followed. Fully naked, he regained his height and gripped his cock in his palm. The thing was so hot and hard that it was throbbing. Beneath, his sac tightened with anticipation.

Two years. He'd waited two, long years for them to get back here - to be with the girl he'd always fancied.

She shifted closer to the centre of the bed and lay back, as he crawled up her body. Lying half on her, half on the bed, he supported his weight on an elbow and touched her cheek with the other. Their lips met, and with every pull of their soft flesh, he whispered in his heart, "I love you."

Wrapping an arm about her, he rolled them so she lay atop him. "Take me, Lavender," he bid, caressing circles along her hips. "Take me an' love me as ya will."

Shifting, she straddled his thighs and raised her gorgeous body above him. With hands shaking in eagerness, she stroked his shaft, slicking him up with the pre-come that flowed from the tip. Seamus remained passive, wanting to give her all the power this time around, needing to show her how much she meant to him by letting her have him the way she wanted.

When she was ready, she held him up with one hand and spread herself open above his considerable-sized crest. Tucking him in against her tiny hole – _gods, don't let him hurt her this time! _– she began working her way down his length.

Her soft, damp tissues parted with some resistance, and he knew a moment of panic when she stopped and gave a small whimper. "Put yer hands on me chest and go slow," he directed, knowing now from experience how to work a woman through this part of it. "Look at me, love. Let me see yer beautiful eyes as ya sink yer sweet, wet pussy down my hard, desperate cock."

Her lids flew wide over his explicit description, and her cheeks burned hotter. She slid a bit more down onto him, her insides relaxing to take him in. Even then, it was fucking killing him how tight she was!

He kept talking to her, wanting to soothe and empower her so their joining could be pleasurable, rather than tense. "Do ya know how bad I've wanted ya, Lavender?" he crooned, reaching up to fondle her high, soft breasts. "Fer years, me sweet girl, I've wanted ya ta fuck me good – ta own me as only ya can. Do ya want tha', love? Ta _own_ me – to have me at yer will?"

A slow realization dawned on her face then, as she finally grasped just how much control over him she actually had. A wicked, feminine smile spread across her pretty, pixie-like features. She dropped a bit more on him.

Fuck, she felt so good! The inner muscles of her cunt spasmed around the head of his cock, sucking at him like a pair of moist lips, drawing him in one torturous inch at a time. Sweat was beginning to form on his brow as he battled against the darker, male need to thrust upwards in one powerful surge and fill her - dominate her. But it was a hard fight. The man he was and the Fae hidden within were both in agreement that they wanted her, not just for tonight, but always. They wanted to bond her to him just as surely as he was bonding to her.

"Oooh," Lavender cooed in pleasure as he parted another inch of her silken tissue, her lashes fluttering over her cheeks. "You feel so good, my Sea."

He massaged her breasts, playing with the nipples, keeping her aroused. "Come down on me," he whispered, desperate for them to be one. "Take all o' me."

With an exhalation of breath, she relaxed and slid down several inches, and the snug grip of her pussy held him so tight he nearly lost his mind to the pleasure.

"Deeper," he pleaded, thrusting his head back into the mattress and arching his hips for more. "Take me deeper, love."

Stroking, white-hot lashes of pleasure shot up and down his length as he sunk into her, until the head of him touched the very back of her. He looked down where they were joined. She was sitting completely down on him. She'd taken him all in – every inch.

A heavy, rushing breath left his lungs.

They fit together perfectly.

He stared up at her, blown away by this first, melting at the thought that it had been with _her_, his Lavender. "Okay, sweet angel?" he asked, concerned by the tiny furrow in her brow and that she was biting her bottom lip.

She nodded. "You're pressed right up against me, though. I've never felt that before. It's… a little painful."

He gripped her hips and guided her up a bit, feeling a bead of sweat roll down the side of his temple. "Lean forward a bit," he urged, and she did as he asked, bracing her hands on his pecs. "Better angle fer ya now?" She nodded. "Good." He reached up and caressed her cheek. "Now fuck me, Lavender. Fuck me like ya want. Make me yers."

Staring into her blue eyes, Seamus felt like he was falling into her very soul. She looked at him as if she was slightly in awe; as if she couldn't believe they were here, doing this again, only better this time around. He knew the feeling.

Her slick, wet pussy clenched around him as she withdrew several inches, before sliding back down over him. Her pace moved slowly at first, as she adjusted to his width and length, and as she worked out a rhythm that was best for them. It was pure torment for him, for he wanted his Lavender to ride him to glory, all lusty and wild. He wouldn't push his agenda, though, for this was her time. He'd had it his way, sort-of, their first time. Now, she would take him as she wanted.

His gaze was drawn once more to where her hips pumped over him, and fire blazed through his veins as he watched his glistening shaft sink back into her on the down stroke. "Beautiful pussy," he murmured, smoothing his palms up her thighs. "Such a beautiful, sweet pussy ya have, me angel. It's gorgeous the way it wraps around me cock and takes me in." Her pace quickened and her cheeks flushed a brilliant red. "Tha's it, me love. Let go. Be wild wit' me, if ya want."

"Fuck me back," she panted, a hungry look in her eye. She licked her lips again. "Fuck me, my Irish."

He closed his eyes, so very tempted. So far, he'd only moved his hips just a bit, not wanting to tempt fate. If he really got into it, it would be hard to pull out of her in time. He didn't want to risk it, so he shook his head. "This… is all yer time, Lavender. Ya take me."

Her nails dug into the skin on his chest, causing him to blink up at her in surprise.

"I need you, Finnegan," she growled, but her irritation was quickly given over to pleading. "I need you to share this with me. I need to feel you want me back." She thrust down upon him and stopped, her breath coming in hard exhalations. "Please, Seamus. Be with me in this."

He reached for her to draw her mouth down to his, cupping the back of her head. "I'm wit' ya, love, but I've got ta be careful not ta lose meself in th' pleasure. We agreed I'd pull out."

Her lids fluttered again as he kissed her.

"Be on top," she whispered. "I want you in the position you told me about a few rounds ago." She looked through her long lashes at him. "I want you to take me back."

He knew what it cost her to say that. Lavender had made it clear that she liked to be dominant in bed, and he knew it was her way of protecting her heart. That she would offer to make herself vulnerable, to share in the pleasure rather than making it one way as he'd intended… "I promise not ta come in ya," he restated the vow, rolling them so she was on her back. "I'll give ya what ya ask, but I'll be careful, too."

Her fingertips ran over his cheek and jaw. "I trust you, my Sea."

_I love you_, he thought again as he captured her lips and resituated his body so that he was kneeling between her legs. Still embedded within her tight, wet cunnie, he wrapped his arms under her thighs and lifted them into the cradle of his elbows, sinking deeper within her as he straightened up.

"Ach, gods, so _bloody _good!" he cursed, feeling the sweat now rolling down the nape of his neck. This was his favourite angle, and it let him see everything so perfectly… He circled his hips, withdrew, thrust forward a bit, gauging the proper depth so as not to bang about the back of her channel, and then when he was ready, he threw her a playful grin. "Fast or slow, Lady Mistress of me Heart?"

"Somewhere in between, and deep, full strokes," she commanded, and gripped the sheets between her fingers again, preparing for a good pounding.

"As ya wish, me love."

He gave her exactly what she asked for, watching as his honey-coated dick withdrew and slammed back into her swollen, sodden pussy at just the right pressure and speed to make her smile bloom across her face and her lusty cries reach the ceiling far above their heads. She screamed the word, "yes!" like it was her own private mantra.

With beads of sweat pouring down his back, his chest, and his forehead, he fucked Lavender as they both wanted, loving the pulsing, sucking hold she had on his cock, and the way her breasts bounced with each driving surge forward, and how red her tiny clit had become. He loved the expression on her face – ultimate pleasure, supreme freedom. He loved her cries for more, and for him to go deeper. Sinking into her now with every inch, Seamus' heart nearly exploded with happiness.

This was everything he'd ever wanted, two years in the making. This was what he wished he'd been able to give her their first time.

By changing the angle and putting one leg up on his shoulder, he freed his hand to play with her clit. He rubbed the little button in circles, and her thighs began shaking, her pelvis tightening up. "Come, Lavender," he coaxed. "Come as I fuck ya ta Heaven, angel."

She threw her head back and began wailing, her back arching even higher as her orgasm teetered on the edge. With a final slam into her, her wave crashed, and she screamed his name around racing shudders that shook her whole body. A rush of warm, liquid heat enveloped his cock, and her muscles rippled, milking him. Seamus bit the inside of his mouth to hold back the tide of his own climax, feeling hers pull upon him. The need to come inside her was so hard to fight off.

He pulled back, thrust, and did it again… and again. He fucked into her three more times before a violent, fiery storm of sensation shot through his bollocks and tightened his abs. Quickly, he pulled out of her, just in time for the first release of his seed to splash against the dewy folds. Gasping and moaning, he jerked his hand over his length several times, and each draw ended in another explosion of white, sticky come across her.

Breathing and thinking were practically impossible as his tired, sated body quaked in the aftermath. It took all his discipline to remember to put her legs down with care, rather than simply dropping his exhausted arms, and for him to kneel above her, resting on all fours, rather than collapsing atop her and crushing her with his weight.

"I love ya," he muttered between pants of air, "so much, me angel. More 'n anythan' on Earth. So good. Tha' was so _fucking_ good." Prying his eyes open, he looked down at her. "Did ya like it? Was it good fer ya, too? Did it make up fer me lousy performance th' first time we done this?"

Lavender's gaze was swimming with exultant tears, and her smile told him she was more than satisfied with his attention this time around. A light sheen of sweat covered her skin; she was hot to the touch when she reached up to wrap her arms about his neck. "Finnegan, I could die happy right now," she told him around a giddy laugh. "I've never felt anything so wonderful in all my life."

His heart did this little catch thing in his chest and he lay alongside her, cradling her close within his embrace. Exhaustion pulled at him; he knew he wasn't going to be able to fight it off. Still, he tried, wanting to make sure his woman felt well cared for and loved. He willed a soft blanket to cover them, and pillowed her head upon his arm as she turned into his chest. They entwined limbs about each other, holding tight, and ignored the chimes when they rang out.

"I forfeit," they both said at the same time, and then followed that up with a matching chuckle.

"I meant it, angel," he slurred as sleep pulled with a heavy weight at his consciousness. "I'm no afraid of being bonded ta ya. I love ya. Think I always have."

As his lids fell, and the dark began to take him, he heard her whisper in his ear.

"I love you, too, my Sea."

He dreamed of lying in the warm, kelly green fields of his home.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**_

_Na síogaí_ = (pronounced "na shee-ogue-ee"). "Fairy folk" in Gaelic. Encompasses a large grouping of hominid beings with ties to nature and who feature an exceptional beauty.

Since nothing in canon is known of Seamus' family, except that his mother was a witch, his father a Muggle, and the man didn't find out about his wife's magical abilities until after they were married, I took creative license with his background, same as I did for Blaise. In this case, I've made Sea's story follow ancient Irish folktales, relating him to the "fairy folk" (_na síogaí)_ - specifically the Meliai, the Seelie Court's woodland nymphs who are associated with the attributes of sex and jealousy, and with honey (which they are addicted to; it acts like opium to their systems) and Ash trees (the material I chose to make Sea's wand out of for this fic). The Meliai are from ancient Greek mythology, but it should be noted that Ireland was settled by the Celts, and the basis for Ireland's Celtic mythology is believed to derive from ancient Greek roots (via the Keltoi tribe – read all about it here: http:/ / en . wikipedia . org / wiki / Celts).

**.**

**Musical Selection for this Chapter:**_** "Your Guardian Angel" by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. Lyrics are as follows…**_

**_When I see your smile,_**  
**_tears run down my face._**  
**_I can't replace._**  
**_And now that I'm strong,_**  
**_I have figured out_**  
**_how this world turns cold,_**  
**_and breaks through my soul._**

**_And I know I'll find_**  
**_deep inside me_**  
**_I can be the one._**

**_I will never let you fall._**  
**_I'll stand up with you forever._**  
**_I'll be there for you through it all._**  
**_Even if saving you sends me to heaven._**

**_It's okay. It's okay. It's okay._**  
**_Seasons are changing,_**  
**_and waves are crashing,_**  
**_and stars are falling all for us._**  
**_Days grow longer,_**  
**_and nights grow shorter._**

**_I can show you,_**  
**_I'll be the one._**

**_I will never let you fall._**  
**_I'll stand up with you forever._**  
**_I'll be there for you through it all._**  
**_Even if saving you sends me to heaven._**

**_'Cause you're my, you're my, my…_**  
**_My true love._**  
**_My whole heart._**  
**_Please don't throw that away._**

**_'Cause I'm here for you._**  
**_Please don't walk away, and_**  
**_please tell me you'll stay, stay._**

**_Use me as you will._**  
**_Pull my strings just for a thrill._**  
**_And I know I'll be okay,_**  
**_Through my skies are turning gray._**

**_I will never let you fall._**  
**_I'll stand up with you forever._**  
**_I'll be there for you through it all._**  
**_Even if saving you sends me to heaven._**


	51. Chapter 9: The 8th Question

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **_**Ladysashi **recommended the song,** "Dangerous - In** **The Closet" by Michael Jackson & Princess Stéphanie of Monaco **for this go around. So, this chapter is dedicated to **Ladysashi** - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen.

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK to: rzzmg at yahoo dot com.**

_**P.S. Unseenlibrarian**__ – Your support, beta work, and brainstorming have helped to make this chapter shine. THANK YOU!_

**PLEASE REVIEW, FOLKS! What did you think of this chapter? It's a long one this time; necessary set-up for future chapters, and to apologize for taking so long to update this story. Hope you like it!**

* * *

_**CHAPTER NINE: THE 8th QUESTION**_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland**_

_**Room of Requirement**_

_**Sunday, June 14, 1998 (4:50 am)**_

Draco's momentarily distracted from his lovely partner when Theo attempted to scoot by, carrying Greengrass in his arms like a new bride. He smirked up at his roommate as he uncrossed his legs and moved his knees for Nott to get past.

His friend threw him a roguish wink as he shuffled by, grinning like a bloody fool. Once he and his partner reached their designated spots, he sat with her in his lap, slightly jarring the couch under their combined weights, and proceeded to attack her neck with his mouth with playful intensity. Daphne actually giggled.

No question about it: the classy blonde with the smart vocabulary and the sexy glasses had unequivocally collared his friend - the man who had vowed since he was thirteen that he would die a bachelor. Seeing Theo as pussy-whipped as Zabini was quite amusing to say the least. He'd never let the guy live it down.

It _was _odd, though. Yeah, his dorm-mate had always been the emotional type - smiling one moment, brooding the next - and he'd always had a somewhat twisted sexual nature that even Draco thought leaned too far towards the dark, but he'd never seen Theo's moods swing as radically back and forth as they had tonight. The guy had been on the verge of violence more than once during this game, and now he was acting all... fluffy.

He glanced back over at his friend and Greengrass. The two were engaged in playful snogging. Bah, Nott was probably just really hard-up. Lust and love did strange things to men's heads, turning them into bloody idiots. That he knew all-too-well.

Across the way, Granger caught his eye and gave him a sly, knowing grin. "Cauldron. Kettle. Black," she teased, reading his expression.

He countered by switching gears and giving her a leering grin. "Rather than snipe at me, beautiful, how about we find a much better use for that smart mouth of yours?"

With a haughty smirk, she waved her hand in dismissal. "Sorry, but I've got better things to do with my time - like inventory my pet rock collection."

Hell, but he loved her defiant wit!

"That's too bad, because our room's right over there" -he tipped his chin in the direction of the private suites- "just waiting to be properly christened. But, if you don't have the guts..."

She snorted in a very unlady-like manner. "Please. I have enough game for the both of us, and you know it. I'd just rather sit here and age quietly, if you don't mind. I'm a bit tired after last round."

Tired, his arse. She was intentionally provoking him.

It was time to up the ante.

"_Bok. Bok. Bok._"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "You little snake. What did I tell you earlier about giving me the chicken?"

She stood up, came around the tables and pulling her dress up to her knees, straddled him. Her core rested right over his aching hard-on as she sat heavily upon his thighs.

"Your clever Slytherin manipulations to get me into your lap aside, never dare a Gryffindor," she growled. Fisting the back of his hair, she pulled his face up and firmly settled her lips upon his. The kiss was passionate and punishing all at once - a claim. Granger was staking her title to him for anyone to see.

Draco's brain short-circuited, and he completely forgot himself and where they were. His hands took on a life of their own, and they were everywhere on her, pulling her closer, holding her tight to him, shoving through her curls and keeping her still while he ravaged her mouth back. They were like hungry animals, insatiable in their lust for each other as they feasted upon one another's kiss.

It was his partner who finally brought them up for air as she scooted off his legs and got to her feet, giving him an impish grin as she straightened her dress.

"Mmmm... so how was that for a good use of my mouth?"

His bollocks throbbing for release, Draco hunched over, slapping his palms on his knees in sexual frustration. His heart was racing a million miles a second, and his breathing was ragged. "You are so getting fucked," he groaned, adjusting his seat as the pressure of his full-blown erection pushing against his trousers was painful. "Fucked and spanked."

Granger had the audacity to giggle as she all but skipped back to her seat, infinitely pleased with her performance. "All bark and no bite makes Malfoy a dull boy," she provoked.

He grit his teeth to stave off the desire to hop up, throw her over his shoulder, and drag her off to their suite. He so badly wanted to pound her into the mattress and make her scream for more that the visual almost had him coming in his pants.

Potter and Davis came out of their room just then, interrupting the moment - which was probably a very good thing, given Draco's tenuous hold on his own restraint.

As the love-bird couple headed towards the sofa, he couldn't help but notice the two were nicely rumpled and starry-eyed. Davis was wearing an orchid corsage on her small, feminine wrist in an old-fashioned display of courtship. Potter was all about the wooing, it seemed.

"Quick, someone get me a toothbrush. They're giving me cavities," he snarked, rolling his eyes. Falling back on sarcasm - especially when it was aimed at Scarhead - helped him to take his mind off his blue balls.

"I think they're lovely," his partner stated, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Bet you think Pygmy Puffs in the mating season are cute, too," he countered with a chuckle.

His Gryffindor Princess laughed. "Yes, they are. And you're an unbelievable hypocrite," she gently accused. "You're as romantic as they come."

He merely shrugged, knowing it was true. After all, he'd copped to a serious unrequited fancy for the Muggle-born across the way before she'd ever considered him in return - that, despite the fact that he was a pure-blood from a family that prided itself on its "unblemished" magical heredity.

Speaking of which, once his father found out that he intended on making Granger into a Malfoy someday in the not-too-far-off future, the man was going to expire on the spot. His mother would most likely fall into a dramatic swoon from the scandal and not speak to him for a month, at the very least.

Those thoughts made him grin.

Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What's got you looking like the cat that got the cream?"

He let his eyes roam down her elegant form. Remembering what she looked like naked made him acutely aware of his erection again. Bloody thing wouldn't lay flat. He shifted and leaned back against the sofa cushions, re-crossing his legs, trying to make it look natural rather than fidgeting. "Because, if you'll recall, beautiful, I did just that last round. I enjoyed the finest, most delicious cream on the planet," he reminded her in a naughty tone, licking his lips. "I'm simply reliving the memory, and anticipating next round's meal."

Her eyes locked onto his, and there was some serious heat in those glinting, dark depths staring back at him. When her lips parted and her tongue darted out to wet them, he felt the rigid length between his thighs give a painful tug.

_Don't tempt me any further, _he silently warned her with a narrowing of his lids.

She gave him a cheeky grin in response, recognizing that they had an audience, and sat back into the couch with a seductive, little stretch that had him seriously considering crossing the space between them and laying her over his knees again for being so fresh.

The second chime rang out, pulling Draco's attention away. He was the Lead this question round, so it was his job to take in how the game fared. Along with the couples that had already forfeited, it appeared the Irish and his partner were quitting the game, too, as neither were in attendance.

He looked over at Gryffindor's Captain and raised an eyebrow in question. The man sighed and said, "Right, I'll go check on them."

"See to Ron as well," Hermione suggested. "We already know Gin's fine from last round, but Ron hasn't stuck his head out in a while."

"Yes, Potter, go make sure Pansy hasn't killed your best mate yet... because that would be such a shame," Draco snarked.

Hermione frowned at him. "Stop," she chided.

"Stop, what? Lamenting the fact that your ex still lives and breathes?"

Her disappointment etched lines around her pinched mouth. "I won't be jealous of yours, if you're not jealous of mine."

Her words brought him up short. Shite, he was being a hypocrite, wasn't he? It was all fine and dandy for him to have shagged his share of witches in his life, but the visual of his Princess in bed with the freckled-faced, redheaded gimp nearly infuriated him. Why?

_Because he'd had her first._

Yes, that was it. The Weasel King had taken Granger's virginity – the one thing Draco had _really _wanted. He'd been lusting after her for years, anticipating a chance to prove he'd changed so he could win her... and he'd taken too long to approach her, afraid she'd laugh in his face.

One blasted year too late.

He'd told himself that he'd made his peace with that fact, and that having a more experienced woman would be preferable, but he'd been lying. The fact was he'd wished he could have owned all of his lover's firsts - that it could have been he who initiated Granger into her sexual awakening.

It was ironic, but he'd been teasing Hermione about being a cowardly chicken nearly all night, and yet he'd been the real coward. If only he hadn't waited so long to tell her how he felt about her...

Restless because of his thoughts, he abruptly stood up. "Break," he indicated, and summoned Potter's house-elf, requiring the creature provide them with food and drink. The elf returned to the kitchens to prepare them platters of the standard breakfast fare, and Draco headed into the loo without once looking in his partner's direction.

In the quiet of the men's, he leaned over the sink and worked on his control. His arms shook as badly as his heart.

What the bloody hell was wrong with him? He was so..._angry. _He was practically seething with jealousy, his fury only whipped into a frenzy the more he thought about his witch with other men. He shook his head, trying to clear it, but bitter thoughts came unbidden to his mind. Thoughts like: she'd let that fucking git, Weasley, have her cherry, and she'd shagged the bastard's older brother, too, in a hot one-off. She'd let Theo touch her naked breasts, and she'd frigged herself to fantasies about her poufter childhood friend, Adam. She'd wanted those men, and one way or another she'd had them, giving them a piece of her soul. That knowledge swirled around in his brain, taunting him, stabbing at him.

_"We got a little intense with the snogging."_

His goddamned best friend had kissed his witch's mouth. The guy had touched her tits, most likely suckled on them, too.

_"It was...fast and sweaty, hanging off the edge of Ginny's bed and with only half our clothes off."_

Shite, but she'd let an older man ride her with a stallion's rhythm, fucking her good and hard.

_"Who knew the Head Girl wasn't as virtuous as everyone thought?"_

She'd admitted to masturbating to thoughts of other men all over the bloody castle.

Visions of her moaning while others took her -as they defiled her beautiful body and filled it with their disgusting seed- flashed through his imagination, tormenting him.

"Stop. STOP!" he shouted, and in a fit of rage, slammed his hand into the mirror above the sink, smashing it. It broke into shards, some of which rained down into the ceramic basin below.

The intense, sharp pain that immediately followed that act indicated he'd cracked bone.

Shocked by the level of violence he'd just unleashed, he stared back and forth between his shaking hand and the mirror in mute horror.

Theo came rushing in seconds later, noted the blood welling from the cuts on the backs of Draco's fingers and recoiled. "Drake, what the fuck, man?" He swore under his breath again, and then leaned his head out the door. "Daph, Granger, do either of you know first-aid? Bring your wands, quick."

Both women barrelled into the loo a moment later, Hermione in the lead. She took one look at her partner and blanched. "Draco... Oh, my God. What happened?" she asked, coming to him with her wand in hand. "Did you do this?"

For some unfathomable reason, his voice had locked up in his throat, so he could only nod.

"Why?" she asked, as she waved her wand over his hands, sealing up the wounds with a simple Healing Charm. Another spell cleaned up the blood.

He couldn't speak, couldn't explain. If she knew the truth, she'd probably think him mentally diseased, calling him out on being a little too obsessed where she was concerned. It would scare her off. She'd walk away from him and never look back. The thought was a shard of glass through his heart. It made him tremble from head to toe.

No, he couldn't lose her now! They were finally getting close. It had taken years of patient observation and waiting for the right moment to get them to this point. He couldn't let her slip away now, not over something like this.

Reaching out with his uninjured hand, he pulled her into him, burying his face into the crook of her neck. In the background, there was some discussion going on between Nott and Greengrass, but Draco didn't give the words any mind; he was concentrating on calming his breathing, matching his heart rate to Granger's.

His partner held him to her in a comforting embrace, but her voice was clipped; she was all business. "Dobby," she called for the house-elf, and he reappeared in a snap. "Go to the Hospital Wing and grab some Skele-Gro. Don't let anyone see you. Hurry!"

The elf was gone as quickly as he'd appeared with a thunderous "crack" that echoed off the high ceiling above.

"Draco, tell me what happened," she coaxed, rubbing soothing circles at the small of his back.

He tightened his hold on her and shook his head. "Nothing. I was just angry."

"At what?" she asked. "Was it because of what I said?"

Draco sighed. "No, it's me. I'm... tired. No sleep, little food. It's starting to get to me, I think." It wasn't a complete lie, as he suspected those things might be the real culprits behind his irrational outburst. He was always cranky first thing in the morning or when he went too long during the day without a break for his eyes or replenishing his energy. Maybe that had contributed to his snap.

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out nice and slow. "I'll forfeit, if you want me to. We can rest in our room for the remainder of the game."

Her selfless offer did more to cool the raging emotions within him than any meal or rest could, as it proved that she definitely cared for him - enough to swallow her pride and throw her team to the wolves.

_"I'd pick you."_

She'd told everyone in game tonight that she'd have no problem kissing him on Monday in front of the entire school. She'd practically declared her feelings for him were deeper than surface several rounds ago, hadn't she?

_"I've wanted you to touch me like this for a long time."_

It occurred to him then, like lightning out of the blue: he wasn't just another man in her life. He wasn't someone she would let go of after tonight and hardly remember come the end of her days. He was special to Hermione!

_"I really think this could work, Draco. I think I'd love this chance."_

_"Making you into a sugar and cream-coated lolly sounds like delicious fun to me."_

_"Thank you for teaching me how to dance."_

Thanks to this game, he'd been given the opportunity to provide her sexual pleasure with a partner for the first time, and he'd also opened her eyes to possibilities she hadn't considered before, like a future career path, different types of bedroom activities, as well as setting aside old prejudices. Best of all, she'd admitted that she was falling in love with him - something he'd wished for since he'd first realized he was irrevocably hers. All of that was certainly more important than who she'd fucked, right?

_"Yes, take me there. Love me there."_

With a groan of longing, he turned his head and captured her mouth in a blazing kiss meant to show her how much he felt for her.

The damned elf interrupted before things could go beyond that, though, as he returned with the healing potion Draco's hand required. They reluctantly broke the kiss, and Granger was back to her bossy self a second later as she led him out of the loo and back to the sofas. "This is going to taste awful," she warned him as she pushed him back into his abandoned seat on the couch, measured a capful of the purple liquid, and then shoved it into his uninjured hand. "Down your gob, as Madam Pomfrey says."

He tossed it back, and nearly gagged. Gads, he'd forgotten how horrid this stuff was!

"Thanks," he said as he handed her back the cap.

"You're quite welcome," she offered, handing the Skele-Gro back to the elf with some instructions about returning it without being caught. When the creature disappeared again, she came and sat at Draco's side, caressing his injured knuckles.

Already, he could feel the bones beginning to knit back together. It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she whispered, low enough for only the two of them to hear.

He glanced around, noting Theo and Daphne talking in low voices over towards the table that was now covered with platters of morning pastries and fruits. Greengrass was sipping what looked like water from a clear glass tumbler, while Theo was drinking something that steamed with heat from a mug, probably tea or coffee. Potter and Davis were standing in Weasley's doorway, chatting with the redhead in soft murmurs. They were all too far away to hear.

Between them, five sets of eyes kept looking over at him with concern, though, so it was obvious what the topic of each discussion was.

"No," he finally answered. "Maybe later."

Maybe never. His cautious Slytherin side warned him not to divulge too much information this time.

"Thank you, though," he offered to cushion the sting of his denial, reaching up to cup her cheek and caress through her hair. "For fixing me, and offering to quit on my account. I... Granger, I..."

The words he desperately wanted to tell her stuck in his throat. Why was he such a bloody coward?

Leaning in, he kissed her again instead, telling her what he wanted to say with his body rather than with sound. This was something he was much more comfortable with, anyway. _I love you, _he thought with every pull of lips. _Don't you know that yet? Don't you feel it?_

A throat cleared somewhere behind them, forcing them apart. "Sorry to interrupt, but... Right, so are we still on break or can we start the next round?" Potter asked, interrupting. "We're kind of on a time schedule, remember."

_Fuck off, _Draco wanted to snarl, but Hermione sighed and pulled away.

"You sure you don't want us to forfeit?" she asked him, ignoring her friend for the moment, her concerns firmly fixed on him.

Yes, he wanted to, but he knew she was looking forward to playing more of the cards, as she'd stated several times over the last few rounds. For her sake, he shook his head. "We're good. Just let me get something in my stomach." He glanced around, and then pointedly stared at Gryffindor's Captain. "Besides, Potter still needs to check on the Irish and his blonde."

Harry rolled his eyes, grumbled something under his breath, and stomped off towards Finnigan's door.

Granger giggled. "You know, I think the two of you could be very good friends if you'd let yourselves. You're more alike than you know."

Draco sniffed. "That would defeat the purpose of using him as my personal stooge when I need to work off my frustrations."

His partner lifted his healing hand. "Does this still hurt?"

Not much, honestly. It had probably only been a small hairline fracture. Still, this was a prime opportunity to milk his girl's sympathy. "Terribly so. I'm awash with pain."

Hermione sighed. "That's too bad to hear. I suppose this round we'll just have to take it easy. No hot and heavy fun for you. Oh well."

Her glimmering dark gaze was heated with amusement.

Stones, she'd just outmanoeuvred him, and he'd just guaranteed he wouldn't be getting much action this next round.

"Clever minx," he accused.

"Serves you right," she teased. "Playing up my sympathy like that." Entwining his uninjured hand through hers, she guided him over to the food table. "Now, eat so you'll stop being so grumpy."

He sighed. "Yes, m'am."

They shared a plate of pastries and he fed her strawberries and grapes from his hand, teasing the ripe fruit across her lips. They shared a cup of spiced, morning tea, and the strong caffeine was the shot to his flagging energy levels that he needed.

"Seamus and Lav are out," Scarhead announced with a brilliant grin.

No need to ask why, Draco thought.

"Feeling better?"

He glanced up at the wizard he'd considered his rival for so many years and realized that Granger was right: he and Potter could be friends... if the guy wasn't so irritatingly chirpy all the time.

"Much," he answered, knowing his girlfriend was watching and listening. For her sake, he made the effort to be polite. "Thank you for asking."

Harry's eyebrows shot up with surprise. He actually blinked a few times, as if trying to decide if this was all a joke or not, and then turned to Hermione with a smirk. "Either the Skele-Gro's gone to his head, or you've rubbed off."

Draco frowned. So much for being civil.

"I've already said Harry," his witch answered, throwing Draco a naughty wink, "I'm good at the rubbing thing. Very, _very _good."

"Ugh," Potter grimaced and rolled his eyes, "Too much information, 'Mione." He headed back towards his customary seat on the couch across the way. "So, I take it we can start again. Say, in five minutes?" He checked his magical timepiece on his wrist. "Because right now, it's going on half-past five."

Draco shrugged. "Fine. Five minutes." He shouted that last part out for Theo and Daphne, who were hovering around the food trough.

"You're sure?" his lovely partner asked one final time. "Last chance."

Reaching out, Draco stroked her cheek. "Better go take your seat before I decide hot and heavy fun's back on the schedule."

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips and hopped up to scramble across to her spot. Daphne and she passed each other, and Theo threw his body over the sofa on the far end. Davis scooted past him to sit down, but accidentally tripped against his foot and nearly fell across his lap.

"Oh!" she gasped, and hastened to right herself.

Unfortunately, her efforts only ended up landing her on his injured hand... and showing him a straight shot right down the front of her dress. Her purple lacy bra was quite fetching.

He swore in pain as the witch finally extricated herself from him with Potter's help, but he couldn't help but notice the dark frown and menacing narrowing of the lids in his greatest rival. Those emerald eyes seemed to warn him, _Don't you dare look at her._

Granger made to get up and grab her wand, to see if she could lend some help, but Draco waved her off with his good hand. "It's fine. No lasting damage. It's just doesn't like to be jostled."

"I'm so sorry!" Davis apologized to all. "When I'm tired, I get a little clumsy."

Potter went to get her a cup of coffee upon her request, and the woman sat down on the couch, cupping her hot mug and blowing upon it.

Everyone resumed his or her seat, and Draco took a deep breath. "All right, so let's get on with it. Beautiful, you're up." He nudged his chin towards the _Interrogations _deck, and Hermione threw him a sweet smile as she reached out and turned the top card over.

_**"If you had to eat dessert off of a member of the opposite team (someone of the opposite gender from your own), who would you pick? You must answer this question."**_

Immediately, she frowned. "Another one that doesn't allow an opt-out. I don't recognize it as coming from anyone on our team." She turned to her only remaining teammate. "Do you, Harry?"

Gryffindor's Captain shook his head. "Malfoy?"

"One of Zabini's cards was similar to that, but..." He paused, trying to recall the exact phrasing of his roommate's question. "No, I distinctly remember that his card said 'feed dessert to' not 'eat dessert off of', and it didn't require you to answer the question."

"You're sure?" Hermione asked, staring at the card in her hand with suspicion. "Anyone else on your team, maybe?"

"I didn't write it," Theo reassured them.

"Nor did I," Greengrass chimed in.

Davis shook her head. "Not one of mine."

"Let me see the card," Draco requested, holding out his good hand.

Hermione passed it to him. He re-read it. No, it definitely wasn't Zabini's card. It was very close, but not exact. Pansy's weren't anything like this, and Blaise's other question had already been asked during the game. "Has to be from your side," he commented, handing it back.

His partner stared at the card, as if trying to unlock all its secrets. "I'm almost positive no one on our side wrote this."

"I don't doubt your recall for facts, Granger," he complimented, and she glanced up at him, giving him a small smile. "So if no one here wrote it originally, then..." He left the thought open.

"Are you saying the cards are being rewritten?" Potter asked. He seemed suddenly alert and wary. "Who would do that? Not someone in game?"

Reaching for her wand, Hermione tapped it on the card in her hand. "_Magica Aparecium_."

A 'magic reveal' spell. She was trying to determine the charm used on the cards.

Nothing happened.

"_Magica Revelio_," she tried instead.

It had the same effect.

"Interesting," Greengrass commented, adjusting her glasses over the bridge of her nose so she could look over the rims. "As they are unmistakably bespelled cards, logically one of those charms should have been successful."

Hermione slowly put her wand down. "Perhaps not - at least not with any magic known to us today."

She glanced up at Draco. "Several rounds ago, you asked me how I'd heard of Madam Aset, the witch who had loaned you this set. Everyone knows about her Sex Shoppe in Knockturn Alley by word of mouth, but I've only just remembered where I'd read about the last name Aset, as well. Godelot mentioned them in _Magick Moste Evile_ as well-known purveyors of rare and dark magical items. And in Bathilda Bagshot's _A History of Magic_, it's stated that the Asets inexplicably sold their centuries-old curio store in Knockturn Alley in the mid 1800's, and afterwards, the store's name changed to reflect its new owners: Borgin and Burkes." She waved her hand towards the room's exit. "I have two copies of Bagshot's book on my home shelves - one an original publication, and Godelot's tome is in the Restricted Section of the library. I checked it out a few years ago for a bit of light reading."

Potter snorted at that. Hermione threw him a, 'shut it!' glance.

"What if," she postulated, returning to the point at hand, "this deck was one of the Aset family's keepsakes - something they didn't give up when they sold off their store way back then? Draco, you'd told me that Madam Aset admitted that this deck was a family heirloom, and that the set originally belonged to a courtesan in a brothel who committed suicide more than two centuries ago."

Next to him, Davis gasped and put a hand up over her mouth.

Draco shrugged. "Yes, but I don't see how-"

His partner turned over the card in her hand, staring at the image of Eros and Psyche embracing on the back. "If this was an item that the Asets kept, then it's a good bet that it's dark magic-oriented."

"How do you figure? Just because the family owned a shop selling dark artefacts doesn't mean that this deck is one of them," Draco stated, feeling the need to defend his friend, Sabrina. The woman had been more than generous in her advice and in her handling of him throughout their years together.

Granger shrugged. "Because it's quite possibly one of the most powerful items I've ever encountered - aside from Hogwarts itself, that is. We've already seen that the deck can accomplish amazing things, like compelling us to answer questions much the same as Veritaserum, and completely ignoring Gamp's Law in regards to creating food from nothing when a card requires it."

She carefully traced over the card's edge, as if testing the sharpness of it.

"Honestly, it's not like any piece of modern or white magic I've ever heard of or read about. Perhaps that's why my spells didn't work on it. Perhaps it was created with... well, old magic." She made a small moue with her mouth as she contemplated that for a moment. "Who's to know what magical lore has been lost or Ministry-repressed in the two-hundred years since its creation."

"My father was into studying those kinds of spells," Nott added his piece to the discussion. "Reading up on the really old stuff was his obsession after my mother's accidental death. He said that most of the ancient rituals had been forgotten in this new age, and that magic isn't half as potent as it used to be even a century ago. So, maybe Granger's right. Maybe the deck was made with a forgotten dark magic. Who's to say?"

"I know for a fact that old magic can be more powerful than anything being taught now: it's what defeated Voldemort," Potter stated, stroking a finger across the scar on his forehead. Everyone cringed at the sound of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's name, even Draco. "Dumbledore told me my mum had cast an archaic spell to protect me against him when I was a baby, which is how I survived his Killing Curse. She sealed the spell with her own life – her blood for mine."

"Oh, Harry..." Davis breathed, sorrow in her tone.

He gave her a sad smile. "It was a long time ago, honey. I... don't even remember that night, or my parents."

"Fun though the speculation has been, it's still just that," Draco interrupted, not convinced that the deck was anything more than what Madam Aset had claimed. After all, why would the woman purposefully give him a dark artefact? They were friends - more than that, as she'd been his sexual instructor, and there had been a intimacy shared between them that platonic friends could never know. "There's no proof the deck is messing with the wording on the cards. Perhaps Blaise changed his card before he handed it in. I only saw it once, and that was yesterday morning. He'd had plenty of time to adjust the wording as he'd wanted to."

"Why doesn't someone just knock on everyone's door and ask them?" Davis made the obvious request.

Potter stood up and held his hand out to Hermione. "I'll start with Zabini."

The card passed between them, and then the guy was off, crossing the room, and knocking on Blaise and the She-Weasel's door. "Hey, Zabini, I need you to take a look at something."

He opened the door without waiting to be invited...

...and stopped on a knut. His face turned a brilliant shade of scarlet, and he quickly shut the door again.

"Shite," he swore.

It was the first time Draco could remember the Boy Wonder profaning, and he barked a laugh. "Get an education, Potter?"

"Up yours, ferret," the other guy groused as he returned to the sofas, passing the _Interrogations _card back to Hermione. "Let's just... keep playing for now. We'll ask Blaise later." He wiped a hand over his brow. "Much later."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think it's a good idea until we find out whether the spells on the deck are changing the text on the cards. I mean, look at this question: it requires a player to pick someone of the opposite gender from the opposite team as their answer, and there's no way to avoid it. That may not create trouble for you and me, Harry, but it's bound to anger Teddy and Daphne, since they're partnered up."

The two in question looked at each other.

"You know I'd answer you if I could," Theo offered, hesitantly clearing his throat.

Greengrass nodded. "And I, you. It is for that reason that I will harbour no jealousy, whatever your response. I already suspect your answer, in any case."

Yes, well, so did Draco, and he couldn't promise to be as understanding, best friend or not.

Granger sighed. "As long as you're not going to blow up at each other, then... I suppose we can wait a round to ask Blaise about the card's real text. Is everyone in agreement?"

Draco nodded, and saw the others do similarly.

"Fine, then let's get this show on the road," she grudgingly offered. "You're up first, Harry."

The guy looked right at Davis and gave her a wink as he leaned forward to take a red card from the centre of the table. "You, honey."

The two shared a secret smile, and Draco tried hard not to roll his eyes again.

Play moved to Theo. "My turn, eh? Well, I guess my answer would be... shite," his friend growled, glancing over at him. "Sorry, mate, but of the three girls, I'd pick Granger."

It took a lot of restraint for Draco not to leap over Greengrass and rip his friend's eyes and tongue from his face.

"Draco, look at me," his partner bid. When he did, she gave him a sweet smile. "Would you like to go to the ball with me next week?"

His jaw dropped open.

"I know it's last minute and all, but... I'd really like to go on your arm."

Suddenly, the pounding of Draco's pulse was too loud in his ears, and his head was full of jelly.

"That's your cue to say 'yes'," she coaxed in a whisper, leaning slightly forward.

Dumbly, he nodded. "Yes."

Her smile was like Heaven's gates opening up. It warmed him, chasing away the dark shadows that crept along the edges of his heart. Thoughts of feeding Theo his own dick for breakfast were instantly forgotten.

Greengrass was up next, after Theo pulled a _Deeds _card. "I suppose that since I must choose, I would answer Mister Finnigan, if for only the novelty of saying so."

Nott let out a heavy breath. "Motherfucker! Every girl in school wants at that prick. What the bloody feck?"

Daphne adjusted her glasses over her nose again, and reached for a red card, saying nothing. Smart girl.

"No, not every girl," Davis chimed in, smiling over at her partner as if every rainbow in the sky were dancing just for her. "I'd pick you, Harry. Always just you."

The witch's partner gave her a blinding smile. "Treacle tarts will always be my favourite."

A lovely blush tinted the blonde's cheeks. "I haven't forgotten."

"Yes, yes," Draco impatiently waved towards the deck of red cards. "Just pull a _Deeds _already. My sweet tooth is aching enough as it is."

Davis giggled, and grabbed the proper card.

Draco was next. "Do I really need to say it?" he glanced across at his witch through a half-lidded, playful gaze.

Her delicate shoulders came up in a nonchalant shrug, and she gave him an impish smile. "If you expect me to ever again kiss that mouth of yours, then you'd be well advised to do so."

His chuckle rumbled through his chest. "I believe that was the most cheerful-sounding threat I've ever received. You know, I'd say you're well on your way to becoming a worthy Slytherin, princess, but I suspect you already know that fact." He reached forward and picked a card from the top of the red-coloured deck. "The answer is: you."

She scooted forward to the edge of her sofa and reached a hand to draw a red card after him. "Smart answer. I'd choose you."

"And the question is, 'What is Malfoy and 'Mione's predictable reply?'" Potter muttered.

Davis threw a couch pillow across the space at her partner. "Hit yourself with it."

"And while Potter's busy being emasculated for our entertainment, everyone turn over your cards and let us know if there's something you have to do in front of everyone," Draco instructed.

He turned over his card and read it. Twice.

"Merlin's hairy balls," he thundered. "There is no God."

It figured that the one thing he was absolutely loathe to do in front of Granger he would now be forced to undertake during this action round.

Hermione was suddenly before him, and plopping her bum down across his lap. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the cheek. "Come on, it can't be _that _bad."

"Swap with me," he pleaded. "I'll give you anything you want."

With a glimmer of amusement in her eye, she asked, "Even _your_ pet rock collection?"

"Fine, all the diamonds in my vault at Gringotts are yours," he easily agreed. "Just trade me!"

Granger dashed all his hopes a moment later, shaking her head. "Nope, sorry. I like my card this round."

Theo laughed at him on the way past, patting him on the head. "Luck, mate!"

"Be back out here at fifty-five past six," Potter called out as he reached down to take his and Davis' wands up from the table, handing his partner's to her. "Cast the C&DC charm, honey," he said in a gentle, low tone.

"Oh," Davis breathed, and ducked her head, her long, blonde hair shielding her expression.

Scarhead took his witch into his arms, and whispered something in her ear.

Granger looked up at her best friend across the way and opened her mouth, but Draco knew that Potter wouldn't want her to interject her opinion in that moment. It was clear that things between the love-love couple were about to cross a line, and to stay or forfeit before then was the kind of decision that they should make together and didn't need outside input. So, with a quick thought, he turned Hermione's head by cupping her chin and slammed his mouth down on hers in a hungry kiss meant to distract.

It worked; Granger melted against him. All too soon, their kissing became something else - hungry, a little desperate. By the time they pulled apart, they found themselves alone in the main room.

"Come on, beautiful," he reluctantly urged her, "I'm not going to want anyone to accidentally stumble from their room and witness my complete mortification as I perform my card. Let's go to our room."

"What is it?" she asked, reaching for his card.

He was quicker than she, however, and in a flash, he had it under his leg. "Patience is a virtue," he admonished.

She narrowed her eyes at him and disentangled them to rise to her feet. "Fine, but you're doing yours first."

"Sure, sure," he easily caved, wanting to get it out of the way sooner rather than later, anyway. He stood and extended his good hand to her. "Well, I wanted a rest period this round. Looks like we'll be getting that." They headed towards their room together.

"Oh, I don't know about that," his witch teased, pressing her card to her breast. That sinful smile was painted across her luscious lips once more. "This round is going to be absolutely active for me."

Draco looked down at her as he opened the door for her, allowing her to go first, as was polite. "Is that so?" he asked.

The look she threw him on the way past was enough to get his erection as hard as granite once more.

Gods, he hoped she still felt that same way once he performed his card for her because, as the Yule Ball had proved, the one thing to be a guaranteed romantic mood-killer was a bad musical selection.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

_**Magica **_**= Latin for "Magic".**

_**Aparecium**_** = A Transfiguration spell that can make invisible things reveal themselves in the HP universe. **_**Magica Aparecium**_** is a spell I made up for this fanfic.**

_**Revelio**_** = A reveling charm in the HP universe (i.e. **_**Homenum Revelio**_** = Reveal Hidden Human). **_**Magica Revelio**_** is a spell I made up for this fanfic.**

_**Magick Moste Evile**_** by Godelot = A book mentioned in the canon "Harry Potter" novels that Hermione checks out of the Restricted Section in Hogwarts' library to look up information about horcruxes.**

_**A History of Magic **_**by Bathilda Bagshot = A book mentioned in the canon "Harry Potter" novels.**

**According to canon, Borgin and Burkes shoppe is located at 13B Knockturn Alley, and has an established date of 1863 on its sign.**

**Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration = A canon law governing the magical world. There are Five Principle Exceptions to this law, but the only one mentioned in the novels is that food cannot be outright created from nothing.**

.

**Musical Selection for this chapter: "Dangerous - In The Closet" by Michael Jackson & Princess Stéphanie of Monaco. Lyrics are as follows...**

.

(woman to man)

_**There's something I have to say to you, if you promise you'll understand...**_  
_**I cannot contain myself when in your presence.**_  
_**I'm so humble.**_  
_**Touch me! Don't hide our love... woman to man.**_

(man to woman)

_**She's just a lover who's doin' me by.**_  
_**It's worth the giving. It's worth the try.**_  
_**You cannot cleave it, or put it in the furnace.**_  
_**You cannot wet it. You cannot burn it.**_

_**She wants to give it.**_  
_**Aahh, she wants to give it!**_  
_**Dare Me.**_  
_**She wants to give it.**_  
_**Aahh, she wants to give it!**_  
_**She wants to give it.**_  
_**Aahh, she wants to give it!**_  
_**She wants to give it.**_  
_**Aahh, she wants to give it!**_

_**It's just a feeling; you have to soothe it.**_  
_**You can't neglect it. You can't abuse it.**_  
_**It's just desire. You cannot waste it.**_  
_**Then, if you want it... then, won't you taste it?**_

_**She wants to give it.**_  
_**Aahh, she wants to give it!**_  
_**Dare me!**_  
_**She wants to give it.**_  
_**Aahh, she wants to give it!**_  
_**She wants to give it.**_  
_**Aahh, she wants to give it!**_

_**She wants to give it.**_  
_**Aahh, she wants to give it!**_

(woman to man)

_**One thing in life you must understand: the truth of lust... woman to man.**_  
_**So, open the door and you will see there are no secrets.**_  
_**Make your move.**_  
_**Set me free!**_

(man to woman)

_**Because there's something about you, baby, that makes me want to give it to you.**_  
_**I swear there's something about you, baby…**_

_**Just promise me: whatever we say, or whatever we do to each other...**_  
_**For now we'll make a vow to just keep it in the closet.**_

_**If you can get it, it's worth a try.**_  
_**I really want it, I can't deny.**_  
_**It's just desire.**_  
_**I really love it.**_

(woman to man)

_**'Cause if it's aching, you have to rub it.**_

(man to woman)

_**She wants to give it.**_  
_**Aahh, she wants to give it!**_  
_**She wants to give it.**_  
_**Aahh, she wants to give it!**_  
_**She wants to give it.**_  
_**Aahh, she wants to give it!**_  
_**She wants to give it.**_  
_**Aahh, she wants to give it!**_

(woman to man)

_**Just open the door and you will see this passion burns inside of me.**_  
_**Don't say to me you'll never tell.**_  
_**Touch me there.**_  
_**Make the move.**_  
_**Cast the spell.**_

(man to woman)

_**Because there's something about you, baby, that makes me want to give it to you.**_  
_**I swear there's something about you, baby, that makes me want.**_

_**Just promise me: whatever we say, or whatever we do to each other...**_  
_**For now we'll make a vow to just keep it in the closet.**_

_**Because there's something about you, baby, that makes me want to give it to you.**_  
_**Because there's something about you, baby, that makes me want to give it to you.**_  
_**I swear there's something about you, baby, that makes me want to give it to you.**_  
_**I swear there's something about you, baby, that makes me want to give it to you.**_  
_**I swear there's something about you, baby, that makes me want to give it to you.**_

_**Something about you, baby, that makes me want.**_

_**Just promise me: whatever we say, or whatever we do to each other...**_  
_**For now we'll make a vow to just keep it in the closet.**_

_**(She wants to give it)**_  
_**Dare me!**_  
_**(Aahh!)**_  
_**Keep it in the closet ...**_


	52. Chapter 9A: Seamus & Lavender

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **_**melissamcmahon **recommended the song,** "Red Light Special" by TLC **for _for Seamus & Lavender this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Lavender's thoughts here_. So, this chapter is dedicated to **melissamcmahon** - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen.

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK to: rzzmg at yahoo dot com.**

_**P.S. Unseenlibrarian** – Without you, this chapter would have sucked. You are the BEST! Thank you again._

**I apologize to everyone for the long wait in between updates for this story. Life got in the way, fests got in the way... I promise to work hard to get the next chapter for you in a couple of weeks.**

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE (#1): Seamus & Lavender**

Lavender gently ran her fingertips through Sea's coarse, dark chest hair, contemplating her feelings regarding his recent confession that he loved her and wanted them to have a serious future together.

Actually, he wanted the magic of his heritage to bond them, as in 'till death do they part.

Although she was at last prepared to admit that her feelings of love for him had never truly faded away over time, that didn't mean she was ready for such a huge commitment at barely eighteen, especially given her plans after graduation! If there was one thing she'd truly been looking forward to post-Hogwarts, it had been the launching of her adult career. Starting up a new, very intense relationship at the same time seemed… well, _daunting._

Since her second year in school, during that awful time when students were found petrified and an unknown individual claiming to be the heir of Salazar Slytherin terrorized the school with threats about the Chamber of Secrets being opened, she'd known what she wanted to do with the rest of her life: to be an investigative reporter. She'd spent most of that year, in fact, covertly following Hermione around as much as possible, keen to the fact that her roommate had discovered some pertinent bit of information behind the attacks after asking Professor Binns about the Chamber. Their ghostly teacher's long-winded explanation to Granger's query is what had piqued Lavender's curiosity to learn more about the story behind the story. For instance, who was Salazar Slytherin really, and why had he been so prejudiced against Muggle-borns to start? Why did he consider himself the purest of purebloods, so that only one of his lineage would be worthy to reopen his secret chamber under the school? _Etcetera._

That line of questioning had evolved into a hunger for the truth. Not the kind of scholarly pursuit that was done merely for the sake of knowledge, as Hermione was wont to engage in, but the kind that was relevant and important in the now. It was an insatiable need simply to _know_ more - about people and their circumstances, about their motivations and what drove them. It was her passion, one might say.

Passion…

Lightly tracing a path down Sea's sternum, she contemplated _his_ motivations. What did he expect from her in this relationship? Would what he needed clash or harmonize with her needs?

Following the line of hair to his navel, enjoying the feel of his warm skin, she touched him not to arouse, but for the mere pleasure of doing so. There was something deeply and intimately sexy about knowing that this amazing sex-god of a wizard was all hers for the touching, tasting, and taking.

When he stirred in his slumber, she stilled, waiting for his breathing to return to normal before continuing her slow, thorough exploration of his body. Smoothing her fingertips over his naked hip, she followed the curve around to his tight arse.

Godric's truth, Seamus had the hottest bum she'd ever seen! It truly surprised her that it had never been de-virgin-ized, neither by the strap nor in a full-on penetrative manner. He'd done just about everything else there was to do in a sexual capacity, and with multiple partners, so why had he never crossed those lines? Was he afraid of pain? Homophobic? He'd admitted to joining in an orgy, but had been adamant that no one had buggered him.

Come to think of it, Zabini had been there that time, too, he'd said. She knew Blaise, intimately. It seemed almost inconceivable that the tall, dark Slytherin wouldn't have at least made the offer to top Sea, especially given his proclivities towards experiencing new heights of pleasure and how incredibly sexy and well-equipped her Irish was. Had Zabini made such a pass at her boyfriend? Was that why Sea was extra-sensitive when it came to her ex-lover?

Hmmm…

Yes, she was definitely too curious for her own good at times. Parvati had been right about that. That's why journalism was such an ideal match. It was a bold and daring career that satisfied her inquisitive nature, and her work would _matter_.

Besides, once she became famous enough as a star reporter, perhaps then she could finally crawl out from under her mother's shadow.

As she ran her fingers through the soft, black hair on Sea's head, Lavender tried hard not to generate any negative vibes that might disturb her lover's rest again, but it was a difficult task to accomplish whenever her mum crossed her mind.

Her mum… _ergh, blah_. Calista Meliantha Brown had blue-violet-coloured eyes, was blonde, thin, beautiful, fashionable, charismatic (if not outright vain), and magically gifted, but that seemed to be the extent of her charms. She didn't work, was a bit of a priss in Lavender's opinion, and was a little on the selfish side. She didn't cook or do house chores (they had a house-elf for such things), had been rather mediocre in her academics back at Beauxbatons, and didn't enjoy sports of any kind. Her hobbies consisted of tending to and occasionally upgrading her prized flower garden in their backyard, and dressing to dazzle for charity events. In fact, her mum hadn't accomplished a single worthwhile endeavour in her life aside from winning the title as the "Most Beautiful Witch in Britain-1975", single-handedly keeping the crystallised pineapple manufacturers in England in business (going through at least a pound of the stuff a week), and giving her husband two children - Lavender and her older brother, Thomas. As a result, people rarely took her mum with any measure of seriousness, and Lavender was no different in that respect.

On the other hand, Lavender simply _adored_ her father. Martyn Fletcher Brown was engaging; he had an easy, affable smile that made him approachable, and his wit and intelligence were off the charts. He was a man who commanded respect in the International arena, acting as the British Ministry's ambassador to the I.C.W. for the last fifteen years, and consequently, he was the Minister's 'go-to' man in a pinch, especially when it came to political manoeuvering. More importantly, however, was the fact that his family meant everything to him, and he never failed to show it.

Family… She wondered about Sea's as she traced over his clover tattoo, noting the small, almost indiscernible Celtic symbols woven into the design.

The Finnigans were of the Fae, he'd said, a separate species that was close enough to humans to breed, much like the Veela, Hags, Giants, and Goblins. Technically, they were all classified as 'Magical Beings' by the Ministry, but the truth was human society still considered them 'monsters' behind their hands when they spoke of them in hushed whispers. Their mixed offspring, like the Sex-Witches and Sex-Warlocks who were rumoured to be the progeny of the Veela, and the Half-Giants like Hagrid, were treated little better than their parents, often snubbed or denied services and employment opportunities, especially by those of the pure-blood upper crust.

Tracing the loops and arches of Sea's tattoo again, she considered that in the face of his recent revelation. He was a quarter fairy folk, and if word of that ever got out, he and his family could face a lifetime of prejudice from certain factions within their society. That would include her, if she allowed them to bond and became, in effect, his wife. The affiliation could have a real impact on her job, as doors would close to her that might otherwise have been open.

No matter how the idea grated on her sense of fairness, the fact was Sea's blood ties were a real concern that she had to weigh into the equation of her life if she took him on. Could she do it – accept the limitations?

"_Lavender, if there's one thing I've learned in my long years, it's that real, honest love, no matter its hardships, is worth whatever price you'll pay." _

The advice sounded so easy… and a little naïve, to tell the truth. Yet, her father had often counselled her throughout her life to believe in love in such a manner. He professed whole-heartedly in its great power to accomplish amazing things, and his life was one big example of that faith. Should she trust in his way now, applying it to her situation? Could she surmount the hurdles and grab a hold of what Seamus was offering?

More importantly, could he, really?

From what she knew about the job of investigative reporting, there might be days or even weeks where she would be required to go undercover in the field, with absolutely no chance for her to send her significant other information about her whereabouts or to reassure him of her safety. She may even be required by the job to be in positions that could appear on the surface to be compromising or dangerous, as many illicit deals often took place in nightclubs, gambling dens, or abandoned buildings. Many men wouldn't be able to rein in their jealousy or overprotective natures with their witches in such situations.

That was part of the reason why she'd kept things casual with Ron and Blaise - no strings to worry about, no hurt feelings. With Seamus, however, not only would there be strings, but knots. His jealousy issues were a serious problem.

She flopped over onto her back, feeling exasperated and a bit desperate.

Gods, the timing of their do-over couldn't have been more inopportune, could it? What should she do? She couldn't abandon her dreams… and yet, she didn't want to give Sea up, either. Her heart was torn.

Glancing over at him… her anxiety quite suddenly and unexpectedly melted away, as she was instantly enchanted by the way his long, dark lashes fanned downward in sleep. He looked boyish and adorable, much as he had the first time she'd seen him on the train to school their first year. The day he'd opened the door of her carriage without preamble and made his introductions with that captivating smile of his, he'd also wormed his way into her heart.

_"'Ello. Me name's Finnigan. Seamus Finnigan. Is there room fer one more in 'ere?"_

Their car had been nearly full, and she'd felt uncomfortably squished sitting between Ernie Macmillan and Fay Dunbar, but in that moment, Lavender would have gladly gotten up and offered the new boy her seat, if he'd asked… just so she could sit on his lap. Sea had charmed the socks off of her from the very start with that burr in his words and his roguish good looks, and even at eleven, she'd been a bit boy crazy.

Unfortunately, Dean Thomas had taken the fun out of her honeycomb when he'd scooted over to press against the window and invited Seamus to take the spot next to him. Thankfully, though, that space had just _happened_ to be directly across from her, so at least she'd been able to get a good, long look-see at the Irish boy with the green-green eyes.

And look her fill she had. She'd practically stared at him from beneath her lashes for the entire ride to school, peeking glances at the way he twirled his wand between his fingers and over the back of his hand with a deft skill, and noting that his shoes had been well-shined with polish and newly broken in. When the others had gotten up to stretch their legs, or use the cramped loo at the end of their car, she'd stayed put the same as him, liking the way he'd blatantly stared at her bared legs. Her mum had thought her mad for going with the uniform skirt, rather than the winter trousers, especially given how cold Scotland was that time of year, but Lavender had never felt more vindicated in defying her mother's fashion advice than she had then, knowing she'd caught the Irish boy's attention.

When the Hogwarts Express had finally reached its destination, everyone had barrelled out of the carriage, eager to see their new home. It was then that Sea had really claimed a permanent place in her life…

"_Careful, lass, or ye'll get trampled by the herd," _he'd joked, watching her get jostled about by the swarm of bodies heading for the open door. Pulling the honey stick he'd purchased from the trolley out of his mouth, he'd pushed aside Dean and Wayne, and gripped her hand in a solid hold. _"Don't let go. I'll get us through this, me angel."_

The memory of that first touch made her tingle again now, just as it had then.

Rolling onto her side, she reached out to caress his hands, noting the strength in them, and tracing over the scars and callouses he'd acquired over the years from playing Quidditch, Exploding Snap, and from brawling a time or two with rival House members. He'd touched her all over with these hands, had been up inside her with these thick fingers; he'd held her and seduced her with them in ways she'd never imagined when she'd been eleven and mostly innocent.

That day exiting the train had been the first time he'd ever touched her… and the first time he'd called her his angel. For all practical purposes, it could be said that she'd been his everything and anything he'd wanted ever since.

With so much shared history, and so much feeling for him in her chest, she resolved that she couldn't give him up. Not now, when they'd just reconnected and made things right between them!

…Yet, his jealousy issues were really hard to handle, and the thought of being, in effect, married at such a young age was truly frightening.

What should she do?

What would he say if she were to confess these things to him? Would he be disgusted with her lack of Gryffindor courage? Would he decide it was all too much drama, and simply walk out of her life? That thought alone made her ribs constrict and breathing difficult. "Oh, Sea," she whispered, trying to hold back the confusing, conflicting tide of emotions.

She laced her fingers with his and gripped his hand in a tight hold, just as she had back on the Hogwarts Express, afraid that if she let go, this time it might be forever.

He stirred awake. "Angel, what's wrong?"

Lavender mentally kicked herself; she hadn't intended on letting him see her like this - ever. "N-nothing," she fibbed, quickly wiping at the moisture in the corner of her eyes.

Sea went tense against her. "Lavender, look at me, love." He leaned back, cupped her chin with his free hand, and gently forced her to meet his gaze. "Tell me those are tears o' joy, yeah?"

She swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. "I'm fine," she said with a tremulous, false smile. "Just being silly, is all."

The look he gave her said he didn't believe a word she'd just said. "Ya never were good at lying, angel. You're worried, aren't ya? About us after th' game."

Dropping her attention to his lips, she sighed in surrender. "Yes. You want us to start something really serious here, but I've got plans of my own for a career, and I'm not sure how the two will mesh."

"Ya want ta write fer _The Prophet_. I know," he stated, smoothing some hair from her cheek.

That took her aback. "How-?"

He gave her a lopsided, lazy grin. "Told ya I've been payin' attention ta ya fer a long time." He caressed two fingers over her cheek, following the curve to her chin. "Ye gave up on me, but I ne'er gave up on ya. Not really. Always wanted another go 'round. Always felt like I was waitin' fer it… like it was inevitable, ya know? I tol' meself that if I ever got it, I meant ta keep ya, too."

His brogue was so thick it was difficult to discern his words, but she got the gist. "Being a journalist is going to require me being away a lot, sometimes for days at a time," she explained. "Sometimes, I might have to go undercover. I might even have to get close to other men. I… to be honest, I don't think you can handle that, Sea. You have… strong jealousy issues."

He was quiet for a bit after that, considering her words and their implications.

"Would ya sleep with any o' those men fer the story?" he asked, pulling no punches and getting right to the heart of the matter.

She winced, nervously playing with his chest hair again. It was a fair question, even if it was horrid that he had to ask it. "No. I wouldn't," she vowed, and knew she meant it. There were definite lines she wouldn't cross, and selling her body to gain an advantage of any kind was one of them. People might assume she was the easy type or a money-hound, like they believed about her mum, but Lavender was neither of those things. She'd made a single mistake with Ron last year, which had cost her some self-respect, but that didn't make her a whore.

His fingers traced her lips. "Would ya do… other things… ta get th' scoop? With these lips 'o yers, I mean."

"No," she firmly restated.

His fingers moved across her throat, over her shoulder, down her arm, to grip her hand. His voice was hoarse when he asked, "Would ya stroke 'em with these fingers ta get them ta drop their guard and talk?"

"Not in the way you're thinking," she promised him. "I might dance with them, if I'm at a function that requires it, and I might have a business dinner with them, but I wouldn't go further than that, Sea." She entwined their fingers, pressing them palm to palm, and felt the rightness of the hold. "Besides, after tonight, I don't think I could do this with anyone else. I…" She let out a resigned, little sigh. "I just couldn't."

Because Seamus owned her heart, and he'd enslaved her body, and now neither belonged to her any longer.

Hell, he hadn't needed his heritage to bond her to him, had he? That had happened the first day on the train, seven long years ago. Every day since had simply reinforced the connection, whether they'd been together as friends, or as more than friends, or apart. This between them had been meant to happen, and it was time to face up to that glaring fact.

As if reading her thoughts, Seamus' lids lowered with sensual intent, and he rolled her over onto her back, coming over her like an inescapable force of nature. "Good," he growled, using his knee to open up her thighs. His hard arousal rested against her damp core. "Because I've decided, me love, that yer mine, and they'll be no one else in yer body but me from now on."

With an adjustment and an expert thrust, he speared her on his cock, sinking deep. The feel of being split open again by his heavy, thick erection was heaven.

"God!" Lavender cried out, loving the feel of his possession, of this completion that he gave her. "Go all the way," she begged, dropping her hands to his arse and pulling him in tight. "Go as deep as you can."

With a roll of his hips, he was in to the hilt, pressing against the opening of her womb. It was pleasure-pain at its finest. Nothing had ever felt this good.

She wrapped her legs around him and crossed her ankles at the sway of his spine, holding him close, and held on as he began to move.

He dropped his mouth to hers. "My sugar angel," he whispered around kisses and groans, moving with infinite care. Back and forth in an easy glide, he set a pace that was slow and gentle, as if he had all the time in the world. "I want ya happy, dontcha know? Do as ya will with yer career. I'll no resent it. Just… don't touch anyone else like this, yeah? Be like this only with me."

"You're sure?" she asked, gasping as he married their hips together again. "I could be gone for days. I could be forced to go into places you might not be comfortable with me visiting. I'd have to go where the story is, even if it meant danger for me."

"Then let me come along," he offered in a rash compromise. "Ye'll need a partner… ta take pictures and fer protection. Any wizard can work a camera, and I'm good at protective spells. I'll not crowd ya. I'll stay in the background 'til ya need me, but I'll be there in case there's trouble."

She shook her head. "I can't ask you to give up your own plans-"

He kissed her to shut her up. It worked. His tongue pumped to the same rhythm as his lower body, seducing her into calming, into enjoying their love making instead of fretting about tomorrow.

"I love ya, Lavender," he whispered against her lips. "We can make this work. Don't push me away 'cause yer scared. We can go slow, like I tol' ya earlier. We'll find a path tha' works fer us both, so neither of us has to give up th' important things." He worked his hips at a leisurely, gliding pace. "Nice 'n slow, yeah?"

Her heart eased a bit at his understanding and his willingness to find a compromise to their situation, Lavender let her worries go for the moment and enjoyed Seamus' seduction. "Okay," she agreed.

In no time at all, he brought her to the edge of the world again, and caught her when she flew off the end, holding her hand as tightly as he had when they'd been innocent children, and capturing her pleasure in his mouth.

When he followed her moments later, he was careful to pull out and spill his seed across her belly, sticking to the earlier promise he'd made to her.

Lying in his arms afterwards, sated and warm, enjoying the feel of his fingers stroking over her backside, Lavender finally said the words to Seamus that she'd wanted to for years. This time, she knew he was wide-awake for it.

"I love you."

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**PLEASE REVIEW, FOLKS! What did you think of this chapter?**

**In Chapter Nine of "The Chamber of Secrets" novel, Hermione Granger raises her hand in Professor Binns' History of Magic class to ask him to tell them something about the Chamber of Secrets. At that, it says: "...Lavender Brown's head came up off her arms..." indicating her interest in Hermione's questioning on the subject. I have capitalized on that paragraph for this fic.**

**Crystallised pineapple – According to the Harry Potter Wikia (harrypotter . wikia . com), "Crystallised pineapple is a sweet sold at Honeydukes Sweetshop. It is sold as small pieces of pineapple cooked in sugar syrup and encrusted with sugar crystals. It is a well-known favourite of Horace Slughorn. Tom Riddle may have bought this sweet to sway him to give him information on creating Horcruxes."**

.

**Musical Selection for this chapter: "Red Light Special" by TLC. Lyrics are as follows...**

_**Take a good look at it...  
Look at it now.  
Might be the last time you'll  
have a go round.  
I'll let you touch it if you'd  
like to go down.  
I'll let you go further,  
if you take the southern route.  
Don't go too fast.  
Don't go too slow.  
You've got to let your body flow.  
I like 'em attentive,  
and I like 'em in control.**_

_**Baby, it's yours.**_  
_**All yours**_  
_**if you want it tonight.**_  
_**I'll give you the red light special**_  
_**all through the night.**_  
_**Baby, it's yours.**_  
_**All yours**_  
_**if you want it tonight.**_  
_**Just come through my door,**_  
_**take off my clothes,**_  
_**and turn on the red light.**_

_**I know that you want me; I can**_  
_**see it in your eyes.**_  
_**You might as well be honest, 'cause the**_  
_**body never lies.**_  
_**Tell me your secrets and I'll...**_  
_**I'll tell you mine.**_  
_**I'm feelin' quite sexy,**_  
_**and I want you for tonight.**_  
_**If I move too fast, just let me know,**_  
_**'cause it means you move too slow.**_  
_**I like some excitement,**_  
_**and I like a man that goes...**_

_**Baby, it's yours.**_  
_**All yours**_  
_**if you want it tonight.**_  
_**I'll give you the red light special**_  
_**all through the night.**_  
_**Baby, it's yours.**_  
_**All yours**_  
_**if you want it tonight.**_  
_**Just come through my door,**_  
_**take off my clothes,**_  
_**and turn on the red light.**_

_**If you want me,**_  
_**let me know it.**_  
_**I'll make time, but**_  
_**you've got to show it.**_  
_**If you need me,**_  
_**I want to see.**_  
_**But don't mistake me -**_  
_**I don't want you down on your knees.**_  
_**I need someone... a real man.**_  
_**I need someone... who understands.**_  
_**I'm a woman... a real woman.**_  
_**I know just what I want.**_  
_**I know just who I am.**_

_**Baby, it's yours.  
All yours  
if you want it tonight.  
I'll give you the red light special  
all through the night.  
Baby, it's yours.  
All yours  
if you want it tonight.  
Just come through my door,  
take off my clothes,  
and turn on the red light.  
**_


	53. Chapter 9B: Ron & Pansy

_**CONTEST WINNERS THIS CHAPTER: **_**AngryCheeseBalls **and** hell-of-a-gal **bothrecommended the song,** "Only Girl" by Rihanna **for Ron & Pansy this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Pansy's thoughts about Ron here. Also, **stikkiebee** recommended **"According to You" by Orianthi**, and I thought it was a wonderful song that could be applied to Pansy's thoughts about her parents in this chapter. So, this chapter is dedicated to **AngryCheeseBalls, hell-of-a-gal, **and **stikkiebee** – congratulations all! Lyrics for both songs appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find these songs somehow and give them a listen.

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK to: rzzmg at yahoo dot com.**

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE (#2): Ron & Pansy**

"I'm worried about him."

"Em uddy fank farvin."

Pansy opened her mouth to respond to Ron's grumbled reply, but suddenly realised she had absolutely no idea what he had just said. "You're what?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, and pushing on his shoulders to get him to lift his head from where he was currently sucking the pulse right out of her neck. That love bite he was working on so diligently was going to be huge if he kept it up…

He mumbled something again that sounded remarkably like, "I am ruddy Hank Marvin."

What, on Salazar's beard, did that mean? Who was Hank Marvin?

"Uh, darling… have I shagged you into such a state of exhaustion that you're now… _delirious?"_

Wow. That would be a first. Bragging rights were hers!

"I said, I'm starving," he translated, pulling his mouth off of her neck and lifting his lips to her ear instead to lick over her lobe. A moment later, his stomach echoed the sentiment.

Pansy chuckled, momentarily distracted from her gloomy thoughts about Draco's erratic behaviour by her lover's insatiable appetites shifting from one type to another in the blink of an eye.

She shoved harder against Ron, pushing him away from the crook of her neck, where he'd been happily nibbling away for the last several minutes, intending on marking her up so there would be no doubt that she'd been thoroughly ravished tonight. Her partner came up for air with a twinkling smile, staring down at her. "I saw food in the main room, on a table." He waggled his ginger-russet eyebrows at her. "This'll be the first time I've had breakfast with the same witch I shared dessert with."

"Not true," she laughed. "You always eat dessert every night at Gryffindor's table with your friends – girls included – and then get up the next day and have breakfast at the same table with them."

He tilted his head, his grin stretching wide over his handsome features. "You _have_ been watching me!"

Pansy felt her cheeks heat, as she realized what she'd let slip. Recovering quickly, she sniffed and played off her embarrassment. "Not like a person can miss your bright red hair. It's a beacon that draws the eye."

He tickled her sides and she fought against the laughter that burst from her lips. "Little liar," her lover teased. "You've been eyeing me. You fancied me at least a little before tonight. Admit it."

Her heart turned over, even as she squirmed to try to get away from his playful hands. "I… admit… to… nothing!" she declared in between gasping, giggling breaths. "Stop, stop!"

The pressure against her sides eased, and he pulled back, sitting up on his knees over her. "Stubborn wench. Fine, don't admit what we both know is the truth." He crawled off of her, all smiles, and extended a hand to her to help her off the bed. She slapped her palm into his with a meaty whack, and he tugged her to her feet beside him. Instantly, his arms came around her, pulling her in tight. "Don't blame you, though. You can't help yourself. I'm just all that."

Rolling her eyes and snickering, Pansy reached up on tiptoe –_gads, Ron was tall_– and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Yes, you're all that… full of yourself." She rubbed her nose against his and smiled up at him through a half-lidded gaze. "Let's go get you that breakfast now. You're going to need the energy."

His lips twitched with amusement. "That so? Thought you'd shagged me into delirium?"

She gave him a wicked smirk. "Not quite yet. We'll get there though."

Conjuring a purple silken robe, Pansy wrapped it around her naked body, and tied it off at the waist. When she turned, she noted Ron had copied her, albeit his robe was red satin. Gods, he looked good in that little scrap of material. As she took him in from head to toe, she absently noted that he wasn't built with the typical Keeper's form, as his position on his Quidditch team dictated, but with a Beater's strength, with sturdy, broad shoulders and tree trunks for thighs. There was a solid, reassuring power in his tall frame… just as there was at the core of his personality.

Ronald Weasley was _made_ for endurance, she suddenly realized, able and willing to stand against the harshest of storms to protect his family and friends. His sappily compassionate nature was compensated by a fierce, sincere loyalty that couldn't be bought or sold, as it was innate to the make-up of his great, lion-like heart. In short, he was a man who would move heaven and earth to keep his loved ones safe, and that drew her to him in ways that overcame her generally suspicious and pessimistic Slytherin nature.

It would also ensure she could never get away with any deception regarding her past… Not with how easily he forced her to face the most painful truths in her life. The thought had her internally cringing in fear. Would things change between them once he found out her darkest secrets?

"Baby, you all right?" Ron asked, closing the distance between them and placing his hands on her arms, rubbing up and down, his touch intending to reassure and provide comfort.

Unable to meet his earnest gaze, she dropped her eyes to his chest and leaned into him. "Just… worried."

"About Malfoy?" His arms came around her, encircling her in their warmth, and he rested his cheek against her hair. "You said you were worried about 'him'. I take it you meant blondie?"

She nodded.

Her lover sighed. "Yeah, well, after what Harry told us, I'm more concerned about 'Mione."

Pansy snuggled into his embrace, her cheek rubbing against the smooth fabric of his robe. "He'd never physically hurt a girl. Draco's mother raised him right in that matter. It's the injury to his hand that has me disturbed. It's not like him to lose his temper in such extreme ways… at least, not since the end of fourth year, when he outgrew his nastier taunting of you, Potter, and Granger. I wonder what enraged him."

Ron stomach picked that inconvenient moment to growl its displeasure at them again, and the serious moment was broken. "Ugh. Too much thinking. Not enough eating," he joked, turning her around to face the door. "To the tables, my pretty wench, and we'll talk on the way!"

Smiling, she led them out of their private hide-away and into the main room. It was empty indicating an action round was underway. They headed to the food table, finding it stacked with an assortment of muffins, buns, crumpets, sweet breads, and fruit. There was also coffee, tea, and pumpkin juice in tall carafes, and cream and sugar and honey in fancy ceramic condiment pots.

Grabbing two mugs, Pansy poured a spot of dark tea for the both of them. Hints of oranges and spices greeted her nose as she stirred some honey into her cup with a silver demitasse spoon. She took a long drag on the soothing, warm beverage and hummed in pleasure as it slid down her throat.

Her partner, she noted, had forgone the use of a plate, and was munching happily upon a blueberry crumpet. He held some sort of muffin out to her. She took it directly from his fingers, biting down, and instantly recognized the flavour of lemon poppy seed across her tongue. Ron brought a napkin to her face and wiped the crumbs away.

Snatching the napkin from between his fingers, she dabbed at_ his_ mouth, not to be undone.

This, of course, began a new game between them.

Reaching for some fruit next, she lifted an orange wedge and held it out to her lover. With a quick bite, he took it from her fingers and into his mouth, stripping all of the pulp in a hard suck. Plucking the rind from between his lips, he looked for some place to toss the rubbish, but was saved the effort as the Room of Requirement simply magicked it away with an easy thought by Pansy.

"Thanks, baby," he acknowledged, grinning at her. "Your turn again." He lifted a slice of apple, and it was her turn to indulge.

They continued sharing breads and fruit until she felt full to bursting.

"You can't be serious," she protested when he lifted a peeled banana to her mouth and wagged his eyebrows at her.

"Dare you," he whispered in a seductive manner.

Determined not to be named a prude, Pansy considered the best way to go about meeting the challenge Ron presented. She eyed the white piece of fruit swaying back and forth before her mouth, and then raised her gaze to his, locking on. At the same moment, her hand gripped his wrist, stopping its action. Bringing the banana closer to her mouth, she darted her tongue out and licked the tip, tasting the fruit's ripeness. It was sugary sweet, and she knew it would melt in her mouth.

Ron's eyes flashed with sexual heat. "Again," he bid, his voice a low, hungry rumble.

Playfully, Pansy traced the underside of the banana, letting the flat of her tongue glide over the soft texture from bottom to top, like licking a lolly. She then wrapped her lips around the end and sucked it deep into her mouth, lowering her head until she could feel it near the back of her throat.

Her lover groaned, and his chest pumped hard as he watched her chew the fleshy fruit and swallow it down. He licked his own lips.

"Pansy… I _really_ like it when you're naughty."

She let her eyes drop to his waist, noting the way the robe tented in the front from his unrestrained erection. Despite how many times they'd shagged already, and the fact she'd already sucked him off, he was rearing to go again. That Restorative Potion was some miracle! She was going to have to get the recipe from Draco later…

Reversing course, she met his hot stare with one of her own. "I want you to fuck me. Right here, right now. With everything you've got," she purred.

Between one blink and the next, he was on her, the banana peel dropped to the floor without a second thought. Dragged to the sofa, she was bent over the back of it without further ado, and her robe shoved up and over her hips. Her legs were kicked wider by his foot, opening her up to him. A single, forceful thrust was all it took and Ron was deep inside her, completing Pansy once more. His flesh slapped into hers as their bodies met with animalistic ferocity.

Her yelp of shock at the wildness he unleashed quickly morphed into a pleasure-filled cry as her fiancé set a pace that was hard and fast. His firm grip on her hips held her still as he pounded into her, fucking her just as she'd asked. With her dark hair bouncing wildly around her face, and her unbound breasts jiggling in time to the rhythm he'd set, she gripped the cushions under her and held on for dear life.

"Moan again for me," he commanded, his tone dark, possessive. "Moan loud for me, my sweet, little whore."

If it weren't for the fact that an orgasm overtook her at just that moment, ripping through her system with a ferocity that bowed her spine, Pansy would have taken offence at his words. However, all thought fled as a rush of liquid bliss ran through her veins, making her cry out.

Behind her, Ron roared as he found his own release, depositing his seed deep into her with a final shove that had her tipped forward over the back of the sofa, her feet dangling off the floor and her face pressed into the cushions. He collapsed across her back the moment he'd completely emptied himself into her, draping his big body over hers in exhaustion. Against the curve of her throat, his breath came fast and hot. "Baby, so good," he sleepily murmured. "Time for bed, though. I'm really done."

As her brain settled, and her heart calmed, Ron's words caught up to her tired mind. Hurt abruptly took the place of the high she'd been riding, crushing her good mood. "You called me a whore," she reminded him, truly miffed. With shaky arms, she tried to lift her body off the back of the couch. Ron's added weight made the attempt difficult. "You're heavy," she growled. "Off."

With a sigh, Ron slowly extricated his body from hers, standing on his own two feet again. "What did you say?" he asked. "I called you a what?"

Lowering her toes to the stone floor, Pansy pushed her body off the sofa and lowered her robe, straightening it. Between her thighs, she could feel Ron's seed escaping the clasp of her body, slicking her skin. She tried to ignore how good it felt as she re-tied the sash around her waist. "A whore," she restated. "You said, 'moan loud for me my sweet, little whore.'" Anger began to burn in her chest at the thought. "Why would you call me something so foul? I am _not_ a common street slag."

Ron was quiet for a while, so she turned to look at him. His expression was troubled, and his blue eyes shone with confusion.

"I didn't…" He paused, his frown deepening. "I don't remember saying that."

"Well, you did," she reaffirmed, "and it hurt to hear it. Don't ever call me that again."

Stricken by her accusation, he got on his knees, at her feet and apologised. As he glanced up at her from his position on the floor, his face was that of a lost, little child's, and there was honest puzzlement in the set of his features. "I'm so sorry, baby. I honestly… I don't remember saying that. I've never called any woman that word in my life!"

Fancying herself something of an expert on lies, Pansy noted that there was too much genuine remorse reflected in his gaze for Ron to be fibbing. Which meant he'd said that awful word without meaning to… and she wondered if that meant it was something he unconsciously thought about her. She knew sometimes people said things during unguarded moments, like during sex, that they wouldn't normally say to their partner – like calling out some other person's name during orgasm, or becoming critical of their partner for not giving an adequate performance in bed every time.

In his heart of hearts, did Ron actually think of her as an easy mark that would give up her body for money or other powerful advantages?

That possibility cut deep.

If she was being brutally honest, though, she couldn't say it was entirely unexpected that he would think such a thing, as she'd heard some of the horrible rumours that had gone around the castle about her since she'd become sexually active. Guys were innately hypocritical like that, wanting an experienced girl to please them, but degrading them later for not being pure after they'd had their taste. Being called the 'W' word by those arseholes wasn't the worst of the foulness that had been whispered about her behind her back as a result.

Without a doubt, Ron had heard such nasty things about her over the years; she figured her reputation had been tarnished in his eyes long before tonight. Ten hours of continuous sexual mischief with him since the start of the game certainly hadn't done much to dispel such lies, either – especially given how she'd sucked his cock and swallowed his come during the very first action round.

Yeah, he probably thought she'd well-earned the title of 'Queen of the Cupboards'.

"It doesn't matter," she murmured, her spirits having sunk into the soles of her feet as her dark thoughts chipped away at her self-esteem. She turned away, heading back towards their private room. "Forget it."

She'd taken exactly four steps before she was swept up into Ron's arms and seated on his lap as he plunked his bum down on the nearest sofa. He was scowling at her.

"It matters, Pans."

"No, it doesn't. I know what everyone says about me." She shrugged, hiding her hurt behind indifference. "I'm used to it by now."

He set her knees down so she was seated fully upon him without his support, and reached up to tilt her chin, attempting to force her into meeting his eyes. "I _don't _think you're a whore."

Focussing on his lips, she refuted him. "You do, too. You said as much that day in the Transfiguration corridor. You said, 'I'm sure there are plenty of openings for a good tuba player or balloon blower out there somewhere, and it beats whoring yourself out to some pure-blood ponce.'"

Ron swore under his breath. "Bloody hell, but I am such a bloomin' bastard sometimes. Love, I was bang out of line that day. I said that only to get a rise out of you. I never meant it."

"It's the truth, though, isn't it?" she despaired. "I _have_ been whored out to a pure-blood ponce… by my own parents." Tears of shame stung her eyes, and just like that day she'd first gotten the news of her impending marriage to the wizard from Durmstrang, she felt the hand of Fate hold her in a tight, choking fist and shake her hard. "My own mother and father sold me to some stranger for a few thousand Galleons and the promise of blood purity. How could they do that? I'm their only daughter!"

But she already knew the answer to that question, didn't she? As a female child, her family's last name would not go with her into the marriage bed, so she was of little worth to her parents except to secure a smart match to a wealthy and influential pureblood son. At least then they'd have a political alliance with some other "acceptable" family.

Even as a very young child, she'd always been painfully aware of the low value her parents had placed upon her. They'd spared her little affection in her life, giving the lion's share over to her older brother, Jamie. They'd also felt absolutely no qualms about using physical punishments or employing her True Wizarding Name against her to keep her toeing the line, covering up the evidence of their brutish ways with cleverly woven Glamour Charms and healing spells to avoid scandal.

Hell, it was no wonder she'd been desperate to find someone to love her…

"I hate them," she whispered with vehemence as she sobbed. "My mother and father… I wish they would just die!"

"Don't say that," Ron cautioned, knowing the power behind such words. Even with the TWN's restraint upon an under-aged witch or wizard to prevent accidental magic use, nothing was guaranteed. Magic was wild, unpredictable by nature and if one's will was strong enough, anything was possible – at least according to Dumbledore.

"I mean it!" she promised him. "I wouldn't waste a pine box on them if they were to go arse-up tomorrow. I'd just dig a hole somewhere random and toss them in. No marker. I wouldn't even dirty my hands with the spade. I'd just use my wand." She shivered, closing her eyes tightly and felt the spill of her tears down her cold cheeks. "Let the world forget such horrible people ever existed. They'd deserve no less."

Pansy could tell she'd astonished her lover with such awful words, but they were what she honestly felt, and she refused to take any of it back. She did want Ron to understand why she felt that way, though. She _needed_ him to, so he wouldn't continue to look at her as he was doing now, with astonishment and concern that she might even be a bit mentally unstable. It was not the Slytherin way to lay one's heart out for possible butchering, though. Old Salazar would roll in his grave if he knew what she was contemplating just then.

Fuck it. She'd already stepped completely outside her comfort zone tonight when she'd given her feelings away to a red-haired Gryffindor from a blood-traitor family, so she might as well go for broke...

Gads, she was becoming more and more red and gold by the hour!

Taking a deep breath, she began her life's tale, leaving nothing of her horrible childhood out. She talked about the years of physical and magical abuses she'd endured under her parents' hands, and the clever cover-ups to prevent any gossip. She told him of the cold, brittle silences and the heated, harsh reprimands at every turn, and explained to him her desperation for love as a result, looking in all the wrong places for it. All of the Parkinson's dirty family secrets were blown wide open to an outsider for the first time… and it hurt to confess such shame to another person, but it was also freeing in a way Pansy hadn't expected.

When she was done talking, she unexpectedly burst into tears, the pressure of finally having _spoken_ bursting out of her like a river freed from its dam.

Ron pulled her into him then, wrapping his burly arms around her as she poured her heart out onto his silken-clad shoulder. He remained a silent sympathizer, but trembled with raw feeling as he rocked her back and forth, letting her expunge the venom of her life's resentment and disappointment against the solid mass of his body.

It took a long while before the storm of her tears tapered off, and then she lay like a limp ragdoll in her lover's arms, letting him support and continue to comfort her. He whispered things against her hair, words she couldn't make out over the sound of her heart's fierce beating in her ears, but they were meant to be sweet and consoling, she knew.

"I love you," she told him again, nuzzling closer.

He took a shuddering breath. "Baby, I'm so sorry you went through all that." He sounded destroyed, his voice choked with emotion. "After this blasted game is over, if you want, I can make you mine in every way so you'll never have to set foot in your family's house again." He tilted her chin up so he could meet her eye. "From my dad's job, I know the Ministry general offices are closed on the weekends, but 'Mione once said that Muggles get married every day of the week. If you don't mind, we could sneak out of the castle and find a Muggle somewhere with the authority to marry us this week, before graduation. You wouldn't have to be under their thumb anymore."

Pansy's whole world jolted to a violent stop. "Married by Muggles? But that's… I mean… it's just..." She paused in her automatic rejection of the idea, giving it some consideration, and was stunned by its simple brilliance. Right, so, marriage by Muggle wasn't _at all_ what she'd envisioned for her wedding, but in this case, it seemed a good alternative to being forced to go back to the Parkinson home post-graduation. "Legally, I'd be considered emancipated if we did it that way, wouldn't I? The Ministry would recognise me as being financially freed from my parents once I became your wife." She scowled as a counter argument popped into her thoughts, squashing her enthusiasm. "But that stupid marriage arrangement with Philos would take precedence, as it's a legal contract and was signed before any of this tonight. It would invalidate any marriage we attempted."

"Except you'll be pregnant by then," Ron reminded her. "You said the contract with that Durmstrang wanker would be broken if you were carrying my child."

Merlin's white merkin, he was right!

"You're right!" she confirmed for him, gripping the lapels of his robe with growing excitement. "The contract with Philos would be nullified by me getting pregnant with your baby. Our marriage couldn't be contested or abolished by outsiders then! And you know getting married away from the Wizarding world would definitely keep my parents from barging in and attempting to interfere until we'd filed the papers at the Ministry."

For those reasons, she could definitely overlook a Muggle presiding over her nuptials.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, exactly! Half-bloods do it like that sometimes, I've heard, so they can prevent breaking the Statute of Secrecy. They run off and have some Muggle vicar marry 'em."

She rubbed the drying tears from her cheeks, sniffing. "Do they?" The thought had her realize just how little she knew about the culture of other classes, having been raised by wizarding aristocrats. "Tell me more. What would we have to do? I mean, I don't know anything about Muggles, except what we were taught in Muggle Studies classes, and I stopped taking those in fourth year, after O.W.L.s."

He tilted his head in an 'I'm not sure' manner. "It's the same for me. 'Mione would know more, though. We could ask her after the game." He paused, a thought crossing his mind that made him smile. "We could do it on Wednesday. I overheard the girls talk at dinner last night about going into London to shop for dress robes for the Graduation Ball. Maybe you can go with them, and I'll make a similar excuse. We'll meet up somewhere else, wherever 'Mione suggests."

She narrowed her eyes in consideration. "We'd have to dress like Muggles, to blend in. I don't have any of their style clothing."

"We'll ask 'Mione. I'm sure she's got some ideas on how to Transfigure our clothes."

Chewing her bottom lip, she tried to find other potential holes in the plan that would need to be plugged in advance. "What about money? I assume it costs something to marry, but I only have about a thousand Galleons to my name in total. Is that enough? Don't we have to convert it to whatever currency Muggles use?"

Ron threw her an arch eyebrow. "We'll ask 'Mione. I'm sure she'll know how to get us some Muggle money at Gringotts. I've got only about fifty Galleons myself. Like I said, the rest is tied up in my brothers' joke shop. I could ask Fred and George for a loan…" He thought about that for a moment, and then patted her bum with a gentle hand. "We'll just go with 'Mione to Diagon Alley, stop by my brothers' store, and then we can head to Gringotts with her and get her to exchange our combined Galleons for… whatever money it is Muggles use. Farthings and sixpence, I think my dad called 'em. I think we should definitely have enough together, if I can convince Fred and George to match your hand."

"You rely an awful lot on Granger, you know," she pointed out.

"He always has," Gryffindor's Princess chimed in, as she entered the room, exiting her private suite. Her hair, Pansy noticed, was nicely mussed and she was positively beaming with happiness. "Harry, too. After seven years, I'm used to it." She crossed over to the loo, pushing the door open, but pausing in the entrance to look back at them. "I'm sorry for the eavesdropping, but I couldn't help but overhear your conversation – at least, the bit about needing Muggle money." She stared at them both with a deep, assessing gaze. "You know I'll do what I can for you, Ron. I just hope that you've carefully considered whatever decision you've just made. It's much too easy to lose your head in this game, I've noticed."

_She suspects_, Pansy thought, as the Head Girl turned away, leaving them to their conversation while she headed into the women's.

That witch was much too quick on the uptake for Pansy's comfort. Of course, it didn't take a genius to figure out her and Ron's secret strategy, either, as there could only be a few logical reasons that a couple would need Muggle money in such large sums and so quickly, and most of them had to do with "disgraceful, illicit activities," as her mother had deemed unchaperoned dates, sex _and _pregnancy before marriage, divorce, and elopement.

The woman was living in the Dark Ages, seriously.

"So, what do you think?" her partner asked, bouncing her on his knee once to pull her attention back to the present and the topic at hand. "It's all figured. 'Mione's going to help us. We can do this, Pans."

She met his earnest gaze… and saw her future waiting for her inside a pair of enchanting baby blues.

"Can I wear a purple dress for the ceremony?"

His white grin was brilliant across his freckled, warm face. "And matching knickers, if you want. Of course, you could wear no knickers, and I'd be equally as happy."

She playfully swatted his arm, and then threw herself into his embrace again, hugging him tight. "We're really doing all of this, aren't we? I can't believe it. It seems almost-"

"Unreal?" he finished for her, snuggling her closer. "I know the feeling. But, it's almost fated, too, you know?"

Pansy nodded, pulling back and meeting his eyes once more… and falling into them all over again. "Feels like that to me, too. Fated."

Their stares met, sparked, and something deep inside her soul trembled. It felt much as it had when he'd used her True Wizarding Name – frightening, followed by the peace of total surrender. _I really love you_, she thought, tearing up.

Gods help her she was turning into a Slytherpuff, like Davis!

Ron's stomach rumbled again, breaking the moment. They both laughed.

"Still hungry?" she asked, with a mocking grin.

He pinched her bum and leered at her. "Always. And after some food, I might just show you again."

Disentangling, they stood up and headed back to the breakfast table, grabbing some treats to go. Granger came out of the loo and with a wave and a wish of 'good luck' she headed back into her private suite. They followed her lead, heading towards their own room.

As Pansy sipped from a second mug of tea, getting in a solid shot of caffeine to help keep her awake a while longer, she looked over at Draco's door. Clearly, whatever had been bothering her ex had been put aside, as Granger had looked positively radiant, indicating things were going well between the witch and her partner.

_Disaster averted,_ she thought… just as it had been in her case.

Briefly, her eyes passed over the remaining closed doors and she wondered what trials the other couples were going through in this game. How many of them were actually having sex now? How many secrets had been divulged? Had any of them found unexpected love, as she and Ron had? She knew Davis, Daph, and Theo –that last was a_ total_ surprise– had breached that wall, but what of Blaise with the She-Weasel, and was Draco really in love with Gryffindor's Princess?

She wondered who the last couple to forfeit would be… not that she cared anymore about the game. She was only here until it ended, and then she would be free of it. It would forever remain a wonderful memory for her, though, representing the official beginning of her adult life.

A new life…

Her fingers caressed over her lower belly again. Was she pregnant yet? Was Ron's baby soon to grow within her? If so, she would carry that precious cargo under her heart until it came into this world on its own, and then, she vowed, she would shower it with the type of love that her parents had never shown her.

Ron held the door for her as she strode past him, his eyes zeroed in on her belly, too.

"We'll make it happen," he promised her with a kiss to the top of her head. "Today, tomorrow, this week… It'll happen, Pans." He shut the door behind them, and put his pastries down on a table he conjured with a thought. He then took her mug from her hand, placing it down, and drew her into his arms once more. "You're both going to be mine from this day forward, and I'll love you both my whole life, and no one will ever hurt either of you. I swear it."

Pansy clung tightly to her lover, and for the first time in her life she let herself believe in a man's promises.

* * *

**_TO BE CONTINUED…_**

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**"I am ruddy Hank Marvin." = Usually just said, "I am Hank Marvin." I threw the "ruddy" in there because it's… well, **_**Ron **_**speaking. Slang for "I am starving." I have only ever heard this said once in my life. Funny ol' phrase, innit?**

**Farthings and sixpence = Old British coinage, no longer in production. Demonstrates that Arthur Weasley knows something of Muggle money, but isn't with the times, as they say.**

.

**_1__st__ Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Only Girl" by Rihanna. _Lyrics are as follows…**

**_I want you to love me, like I'm a hot ride._**  
**_Be thinking of me, doing what you like._**  
**_So, boy, forget about the world, 'cause it's gonna be me and you tonight._**  
**_I'm gonna make your beg for it,_**  
**_then I'm 'a make you swallow your pride._**

**_Want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world._**  
**_Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love._**  
**_Like I'm the only one who knows your heart._**  
**_Only girl in the world..._**  
**_Like I'm the only one that's in command._**  
**_'Cause I'm the only one who understands how to make you feel like a man, yeah._**

**_Want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world._**  
**_Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love._**  
**_Like I'm the only one who knows your heart._**  
**_Only one..._**

**_Want you to take it like a thief in the night._**  
**_Hold me like a pillow, make me feel right._**  
**_Baby, I'll tell you all my secrets that I'm keepin', you can come inside._**  
**_And when you enter, you ain't leavin'._**  
**_Be my prisoner for the night._**

**_Want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world._**  
**_Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love._**  
**_Like I'm the only one who knows your heart._**  
**_Only girl in the world..._**  
**_Like I'm the only one that's in command._**  
**_'Cause I'm the only one who understands._**  
**_Like I'm the only one who knows your heart._**  
**_Only one..._**

**_Take me for a ride, ride._**  
**_Oh, baby, take me high, high._**  
**_Let me make you rise, rise._**  
**_Oh, make it last all night, night._**  
**_Take me for a ride, ride._**  
**_Oh, baby, take me high, high._**  
**_Let me make you rise, rise._**  
**_Make it last all night._**

**_Want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world._**  
**_Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love._**  
**_Like I'm the only one who knows your heart._**  
**_Only girl in the world..._**  
**_Like I'm the only one that's in command._**  
**_'Cause I'm the only one who understands how to make you feel like a man._**  
**_Only girl in the world..._**  
**_Girl in the world..._**  
**_Only girl in the world..._**  
**_Girl in the world..._**

_**.**_

_**.**_

**_2__nd__ Musical Selection for this Chapter: "According to You" by Orianthi. _Lyrics are as follows…**

_**According to you I'm stupid, I'm useless,**_  
_**I can't do anything right.**_  
_**According to you I'm difficult, hard to please,**_  
_**forever changing my mind.**_  
_**I'm a mess in a dress.**_  
_**Can't show up on time**_  
_**even if it would save my life.**_  
_**According to you.**_  
_**According to you…**_

_**But according to him I'm beautiful, incredible!**_  
_**He can't get me out of his head.**_  
_**According to him I'm funny, irresistible!**_  
_**Everything he ever wanted.**_  
_**Everything is opposite.**_  
_**I don't feel like stopping it.**_  
_**So, baby, tell me what I got to lose.**_  
_**He's into me for everything I'm not.**_  
_**According to you…**_

_**According to you I'm boring, I'm moody,**_  
_**and you can't take me any place.**_  
_**According to you I suck at telling jokes,**_  
_**'cause I always give it away.**_  
_**I'm the girl with the worst attention span,**_  
_**You're the one who puts up with that.**_

_**According to you.**_  
_**According to you…**_

_**But according to him I'm beautiful, incredible!**_  
_**He can't get me out of his head.**_  
_**According to him I'm funny, irresistible!**_  
_**Everything he ever wanted.**_  
_**Everything is opposite.**_  
_**I don't feel like stopping it.**_  
_**So, baby, tell me what I got to lose,**_  
_**He's into me for everything I'm not.**_  
_**According to you…**_

_**I need to feel appreciated.**_  
_**Like I'm not hated. Oh, no.**_  
_**Why can't you see me through his eyes?**_  
_**It's too bad, you're making me dizzy.**_

_**But according to me you're stupid, you're useless,**_  
_**you can't do anything right.**_

_**But according to him I'm beautiful, incredible!**_  
_**He can't get me out of his head.**_  
_**According to him I'm funny, irresistible!**_  
_**Everything he ever wanted.**_  
_**Everything is opposite.**_  
_**I don't feel like stopping it.**_  
_**Baby, tell me what I got to lose.**_  
_**He's into me for everything I'm not.**_  
_**According to you, you…**_  
_**According to you, you…**_

_**According to you I'm stupid, I'm useless.**_  
_**I can't do anything right.**_


	54. Chapter 9C: Draco & Hermione

_**CONTEST WINNERS THIS CHAPTER: **_**AnotherDramione** recommended the song,**"Adore" by Paramore **for Draco & Hermione this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Hermione's thoughts about Draco here. So, this chapter is dedicated to **AnotherDramione** – congratulations! Lyrics for the song appears at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen.

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK to: rzzmg at yahoo dot com.**

**ADDITIONAL: **Please thank** UNSEENLIBRARIAN** in your review for once more delivering a fantastic beta, filled with a lot of excellent suggestions as well as corrections. Couldn't do this story without her, folks, so please make sure you let her know how fantastic she is!

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE (#3): Draco & Hermione**

Hermione waited until the door was closed behind Draco before holding up her card. She waved it at him and read it aloud.

_**DEED: Your partner must kneel before you and perform any three tasks you want, responding with 'Yes, Your Highness,' to your commands.**_

Her partner's lips twitched with amusement, even as his lids lowered seductively. "So, I get to play your sub after all," he stated, his voice deep and husky with growing arousal.

She hummed in agreement. "So it seems." Playing coy, she brought the card up and tapped the card against her chin. "Now what shall I make you do first, I wonder?"

Draco held up his card, and wry sarcasm replaced the heated desire in his voice and face. "You might want to hear my requirement first, beautiful." He read it to her.

_**DEED: You must sing a romantic song to your partner.**_

"I should probably preface this one with an offer for earplugs-" he began, but Hermione cut him off.

Frowning, she reached for his card. "May I see that for a moment?" She took it from Draco's hand before he could reply, and flipping it around. Yes, that was definitely Finnigan's handwriting, but the card text was off, as was its colour. "This card wasn't a _Deed_. It was a _Forfeit_," she told him, turning it over and noting that it was shaded red, not blue as it should have been. "I distinctly remember teasing Sea about it, because he has a terrible singing voice."

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but paused for a moment, looking doubtful. "You're sure?"

With a confident nod, she confirmed, "Absolutely. I remember that conversation quite clearly. Which means, I was right: the cards _are_ changing."

"Unless Finnigan altered his cards at the last minute, before turning them in," Draco pointed out. "Did you see them right before they were shuffled into the deck tonight?"

With a reluctant shake of her head, Hermione had to admit that no, she hadn't. The last time she'd seen any of her teammates' cards was Friday afternoon, hours before the game began, when they'd all met up to share them so they wouldn't be caught unawares.

"So, it's possibly a case like Blaise's _Interrogations_ card - that the change was made by the card owner," he argued.

Technically, she had to concede. He could be right. _Maybe,_ she thought, although some bizarre sixth sense was screaming in her head, _WRONG! WRONG!_

She stared at the back of the card again, her eyes roaming every inch for any clues.

The artist had done an amazing job; the attention to detail and the sparse use of shadows over the piece exquisitely brought to life the suffering and trials of this fairy-tale couple –they'd followed a path filled with anger, mistrust, jealousy, and great sacrifice- before finally being allowed to be together, according to the myth. Psyche, whose fair beauty was comparable only to Helen of Troy's in the ancient world, was clearly sad in the drawing, her eyes and mouth turned down by the weight of her sorrow. And Eros... well, she couldn't tell the expression on the hand-drawn portrait of the man, as the model's face was shielded by Psyche's shoulder. In fact, the only way to discern his possible feelings in the picture was the way he desperately held onto his lover and the slight drooping of the small wings attached to his back, indicating his grief as well. His true skin colouring was unknown, as the entire back of the card was done in shades of red, but even she could tell that he was of a lighter persuasion, possibly a golden or olive-colouring. He _did_ have dark hair, though...

Something 'binged' in her head at that detail, and she had a sudden flashback.

Earlier, while in the men's loo, for a brief few seconds, Hermione could have sworn she'd seen a strange man's face in the broken mirror behind her partner's back. She'd been holding onto Draco, trying to soothe his trembling after he'd broken his hand for a reason she still didn't quite understand, when she'd noticed a shape in the cracked reflection over her boyfriend's shoulder. The features had been indistinct because of the shattered glass, but it had most definitely been male... and the face had been framed by dark hair.

She'd been almost positive that a nasty smirk had been painted across the man's bloodless lips, too, but when she'd blinked to ascertain that fact, the image was no longer there. Instead of the stranger, there was only Teddy's concerned expression in the mirror as he'd watched her from the doorway.

Immediately after that bizarre apparition, her attention had shifted, as Draco had let out a very subtle, but distressed, whimper next to her ear, as if some thought he'd had had upset him. Setting aside the strange vision (which she couldn't be sure she hadn't imagined anyway, as she'd been exhausted from being up for almost twenty-four hours straight and from engaging in _strenuous_ _activities_ for at least the last four of those) she'd set about seeing to her lover's care.

After the action had moved back into the main room, she had been completely distracted by a bit of snogging on the couch, in dealing with keeping Draco's increasingly jealous behaviour in check, and then the game had continued and there had been all that debate about the cards... Honestly, she hadn't had time until now to even think about the face in the mirror.

Now, as she considered the image on the back of the cards, she wondered if the face in the mirror hadn't been real after all, and if so, if it had something to do with Eros, the man in the picture. It was a faulty leap in logic, she knew, based entirely upon a hunch and absolutely no evidence, but something deep inside her felt as if she were making an important connection that needed to be considered. It was the same sensation she'd had in first year, when she'd sniffed out that Fluffy had been guarding something under the trap door, and in second year, when she'd somehow known that a magical creature was involved in the petrifying of students, and in third year when she'd deduced that Lupin was a werewolf. In all three cases, her instincts had proven right, and she was loath to abandon them now, even in the face of such logical debate by her partner.

Biting her bottom lip, Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. "It's just that-" She stopped at his skeptical gaze and scowled at the card in her hand. "Something's felt... off... all night. Haven't you noticed? Everyone's changed so much in so short a time, mooning all over their partners as if they'd been long-time lovers. And there have been these... bouts... of negative emotional outbursts from every player that don't seem, well, _normal_."

Her boyfriend stared down at his recently healed hand, contemplating her words, worry lines marring his brow. "There could be a lot of things causing that," he disagreed. "Sharing secrets, being in such close quarters, repressed feelings given a chance to be aired, sexual intimacy." He glanced up at her through his dark gold lashes. "You've seen how such things have affected us. It's changed everything, just as I'd hoped."

Reaching for her, he gathered her up in his arms and pressed his forehead to hers.

"These... thoughts... I've had them for you for a long while, Granger. This game's allowed me the chance I've wanted with you since fourth year." He ran his nose down her cheek, speaking softly. "Maybe it's the same for the others." His lips pressed a gentle kiss against the corner of her mouth. "Tonight is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I'm not inclined to look this gift horse in the mouth. Are you?"

Seduced by just this little bit of touching, Hermione dropped the cards and gripped his shoulders, pulling them until their bodies aligned in perfect accord. "No, because… because it's the best thing that's ever happened to me, too - besides discovering I really was a witch, I mean," she breathed the truth.

Hermione stumbled over her words, her thoughts a startled, scrambled mess in her head. She'd never been in love before, not really. Not the type of love that made her feel as if she was simultaneously sinking and floating, causing her to feel exhilarated and frightened at the same time. The sensation was terribly bewildering, and for the first time in her life, she could intimately relate with Alice as she'd tumbled and plummeted down the rabbit hole.

And this _was_ love she was feeling, not just desire; she wasn't so naïve and inexperienced as to not know the difference by now. What she'd felt for Ron and Adam had been a sweet, child's infatuation, and what she'd experienced with Charlie and Theo, shameless lust. The sentiment that beat fiercely behind her breastbone as she stared up at Draco now, though, was both of those things… and infinitely more. It was decadent, tender, wicked, and lovely… and she was completely unprepared by how it swept her off her feet and overwhelmed her.

She licked her lips. Her mouth felt hot and her throat tight. "I just never thought that you and I would become… this."

"I did," he admitted, lust and a deeper, more affectionate emotion filling his expression. "Every day and night for the last three and a half years, I've _burned_ with the thought of having you." He smoothed a curl from her cheek with a gentle touch. "Now that you're here with me, I'm not letting go."

Her heart beat a little faster in her chest. He meant after the game was over, didn't he? He'd asked her to be his girlfriend, so that meant he must have meant it for the long-term. Right?

But what if he didn't? What if she was merely number ten in his string of girls? He hadn't exactly answered her questions regarding whether he was falling in love with her as she was with him. He'd alluded to it, but he hadn't actually said the words.

That little voice of doubt crept in, causing her to worry. She stared at his bottom lip, willing him to tell her she was being silly. "Is that a promise?"

"Do you want one from me?" he asked.

There was no hesitation when she said, "Yes," although the word came out on a whisper, as if admitting such a thing made her somehow seem a bit ridiculous.

Draco looked her in the eye when he whispered back, "Then I promise."

Her breath gave a funny hitch as his mouth finally claimed hers, sealing the vow. His tongue slipped through the seam of her lips, parting them with an expert ease to dip inside for a taste, and Hermione felt that first stroke through every part of her body. It heated her belly, tickled her brain, and melted her bones.

Yearning for him to taste every inch of her with his wicked tongue, she coaxed him deeper into the room with backward steps and a fierce grip on his arms.

As they tumbled back onto the bed and he came over her, Hermione's last rational thought was that although her instincts were telling her she was right about the cards, she knew that the facts would have to wait until later to be obtained from Zabini and Sea. In the meantime, this was her action round, and she intended on enjoying it in Draco's arms.

They kissed for what felt like forever, before Draco pushed up on his elbows and broke them apart. "Want to forfeit yet?"

The reason why occurred to her in an instant. "You just don't want to have to sing."

His grey eyes lit up with mischief and that naughty smirk of his put in an appearance. "That may be one reason, yes, but there is definitely another." Wiggling his hips against her, she could feel the hard press of his rigid erection.

"If we quit now, I couldn't make you my little love slave for the next twenty-five minutes," she teased, grinning at him. "Why ever would I want to deny myself such an unforgettable pleasure as seeing you on your knees, at my feet?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Sadistic chit."

"Back-pedalling snake."

Their matching grins were a sight, she was sure.

With a resigned sigh, he gave a light slap to her hip as he extricated himself from her arms and made his feet. "Come then. Command me as you will, my princess."

She waggled a finger at him. "Your Highness," she reminded him with a wicked giggle.

He rolled his eyes, and she laughed.

"Very well," he said, playing along. Dropping to his knees beside the bed, he adopted a contrite expression. "What do you wish of me, Your Highness?"

Sitting up, Hermione stared at his submissive posturing and felt a fluttering in her belly. It was a powerful feeling to know that she could literally have him perform any sort of act she wished and he'd do it - all for her pleasure. With care, she bent her knee and placed one gold-heeled sandal on his shoulder.

"Tell me a secret about yourself. Something you haven't told anyone else."

There was a very pregnant pause as Draco considered her request. She patiently waited him out.

"The first Lucius Malfoy –an ancestor of mine- wooed Queen Elizabeth the First, and when she rejected him, he hexed her never to marry. Hence the reason she died without an heir."

Hermione's mouth dropped open at this revelation. "Your family actually attempted to intermarry with _Muggle_ royalty?" A chuckle escaped from between her lips. "That's definitely one for the books!"

He shrugged as if it were of no consequence. "I've got more than a few Muggle royal and noble titles scattered throughout my family's history – Burgundian, English, Bourbon, Wallachian, Aragonese, Bavarian. We were gifted our land in Wiltshire by William the First, in fact – a man most definitely Muggle."

She gaped at him. "So, you're openly admitting to not being a pure-blood?"

Draco snorted and shook his head. "What magical family can? You know it's impossible to trace a lineage back to the very inception of magic. The Malfoys have, however, comingled their bloodlines only with other wizarding families since the official establishment of the Statute of Secrecy, as most of the other pure-blood families have done. That's over three hundred years of true magical marriages, so it's likely as close to 'pure' as anyone in England can claim."

Hermione reflected on that.

"That's a secret about your family. I asked for one about you."

He glared at her. "Semantics."

She held a finger up between them. "But an important distinction." When his face set into well-recognized stubbornness, Hermione sighed. "For the very first time in our seven-year acquaintance, I feel like I finally see the real you, Draco. It's... nice." She glanced down at where his hand had unconsciously reached up and begun smoothing back and forth across her calf. "We've shared so much of the physical already – more than I've ever given to another man. I just... You can tell me something small, like you collect seashells, or write in a journal, or that you wash your hands a lot because you're afraid of germs. I promise I won't laugh, no matter what it is. I just want to know more about you."

Finally, a smile pulled at his lips.

Emboldened she continued. "And I'll do the same. I'll tell you a secret no one else knows about me."

He was quiet for a moment longer.

"Seashells?"

His smirk was back in place.

Hermione shrugged. "I collect them. Every beach I've been to, I take home a seashell as a memento. I have a shelf just for them in my room back at my parents' house. Each one is special to me, because it reminds me of time spent with my family."

"You lead a varied and fascinating life, Granger," he teased with a small smile. "Collecting seashells, shagging while wearing hats, reading until you pass out from exhaustion, and frigging yourself in public places. How do you manage it all?"

She nudged him with her toe to bring him back on-track. He had a terribly manipulative habit of distracting her from the subject on hand when he wasn't comfortable with it.

"Your turn."

His smile slipped away as his mood shifted again, turning serious. His eyes grew distant as he clearly contemplated his next move. Hermione held her breath, waiting, hoping that he'd take this risk and trust her with something important…

"I see some letters backwards."

It took a second for the enormity of that simple statement to really sink into her brain, but when it did, Hermione was stunned.

Draco Malfoy was dyslexic.

The man whose family prided itself on its flawless superiority through centuries of impeccable breeding habits –that took immense pleasure in cutting down those they deemed the slightest bit imperfect– had a reading disability.

Dyslexia was hereditary, she knew, which meant the possibility of Lucius Malfoy or his father having had it, too, was pretty high.

The ironies kept piling up tonight, it seemed.

"Which letters?" She posed the question in a very careful tone.

He nervously licked his lips, and wouldn't meet her eyes, she noticed. His light rubbing on her ankle became anxious as well, indicating his increasing agitation. "Lower case 'b' and 'd' are the main ones, but occasionally I mix up 'p' with 'q' or 'g'."

"You've self-corrected all these years, then?"

His sugar-white head dipped downward once. "I've been very careful not to let anyone know, not even the professors."

Because burying one's weaknesses so they could never be used against you was the very heart of Salazar Slytherin's political and personal philosophy, she thought, although she was wise not to say such a thing aloud.

Once more, Hermione was struck with the strangeness of how much influence their sorted Houses had on shaping their personal experiences, opinions, reactions, and overall character. In Gryffindor, when one struggled, there were others to bolster you and help you along; they reminded you that you could overcome your handicap if you never stopped working towards that goal. Hufflepuffs tended to accept their limitations and not be embarrassed by them with the same measure of equality as they accepted their strengths and were not overly arrogant in boasting them. They were a very light-hearted and laissez-faire House in that regard. Yet, in Ravenclaw and Slytherin, having a physical flaw or what was seen as an inadequacy of character almost seemed a shameful thing. Poor Luna had always been on the receiving end of her Housemate's cruel pranks simply because she was considered a bit mentally deficient by them. She could just imagine how Slytherins might consider such things; they were, in her opinion, like sharks circling, looking for any opening and waiting for the right moment to strike.

Draco would be torn up if anyone in his social circle, aside from his close friends, were to discover his secret. And yet, he'd trusted _her_ enough to give her this damning material, when he could have just as easily told her he preferred peas over sprouts or something equally as whimsical and harmless instead.

She touched his cheek in a tender caress and their eyes met once more. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

He dropped his gaze to her knee again, and for the first time, she saw Draco's shy side. It was quite endearing, honestly, especially the slight tinge of pink that coloured the tops of his ears and the heart of his cheeks.

Right, so, he'd shared something a bit painful and emotionally exposing with her. It felt only fair to do likewise.

"I had a twin sister. She died within a day of being born, though, from SIDS - Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. She never left the hospital."

Draco glanced up at her in surprise, and his hand stilled its incessant movement on her ankle. Gently, he shifted and set her leg down. Then, he got up off the carpeted floor and took a seat next to her on the bed. As careful as she'd been with him, he now was with her.

"What was her name?"

"Phoibe. It means, 'radiant' or 'bright' in Greek." She smiled, feeling that familiar pang behind her heart whenever she opened this particular door. "Our parents were in love with mythology."

"Who was older?" he asked.

"Me. By seventeen minutes."

He paused, and she could see he was struggling with asking her something. She nudged him with her elbow. "Ask me," she prompted him. "It's okay. I know she and I shared a womb, but… I never knew her – at least not consciously. I certainly don't remember her. So, you won't hurt me with questions."

He wrapped an arm around her and held her to his side, as if attempting to shelter her from any potential hurt.

"What is 'Sudden Infant Death'? I've never heard of it."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "It's an unexplained phenomenon, in Muggles anyway. I don't know if wizards or witches experience such things. Sometimes, a child just… dies. There's no logical reason for it and no underlying medical condition that causes it as far as doctors –Muggle healers– can tell. There are a handful of theories, of course, but nothing concrete that can be pointed to as the single factor that causes it. The baby simply goes to sleep and doesn't wake up."

"You mean 'cot death'?"

"Same thing," she agreed. "So, wizards and witches do have it, too."

Draco nodded. "It's very rare, though." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry."

She took his hand in hers, stroking over his fingers. "Thank you for saying so."

They stayed like that for a bit, silent and holding onto each other to both give and receive comfort, and in those moments, Hermione realized how much security and contentment she felt within the shelter of Draco's arms. In only a few short hours, he'd blown wide open her beliefs, reset her understanding of past events, and had become a friend and trusted confidant.

He'd become her lover.

No, they may not have physically crossed _that_ line, yet, but she was certain that her feelings were already there, just waiting for the rest to catch up.

"What else would you have me do for your pleasure, Your Highness?" he eventually asked in a low murmur, stroking a hand across her arm.

His words brought Hermione sharply back to the present, and the fact that she'd been moon-eyed over him for at least the last fifteen minutes, cutting into this action round's 'playful' phase. Time was running out, and she still had two wonderful commands to give, as well as enjoying his card's performance.

Maybe she could combine their actions to save time...

Before she could make a decision on what to do or say next to return them to the course of the game, she was suddenly on her back again, being pressed into the soft coverlet of the bed. Draco's mouth sought hers with sweet need, kissing her as if she were a fragile, delicate thing about to break apart under his hands.

"Tell me," he coaxed around pulls of lips. "Tell me what you want me to do to and for you."

Carding her fingers through his soft, blond hair, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on, kissing him back with equal passion.

"Sing for me," she requested, remembering his card's requirement. "Just like this, with you lying on top of me."

Passion burned in his gaze as he met her bold stare with his own. "Yes, Your Highness. Do you have a song you'd prefer to hear?"

She shook her head. "Anything you want. Your choice."

He paused to consider his options, letting his fingers absently twirl strands of her hair around and around. "Hmmm… Decisions, decisions." Eventually, a small smile graced his lips, and she knew he'd thought up a selection they'd both like.

A soft guitar started a familiar refrain –a Muggle song she was well acquainted with– and he took a deep breath to begin.

_**Wise men say only fools rush in,  
but I can't help falling in love with you.**_

Hermione's heart started racing like mad, the thump of its beat a heavy pounding in her chest.

**_Shall I stay?_**  
**_Would it be a sin_**  
**_if I can't help falling in love with you?_**

Eyes wide with surprise, she could only lie back in amazement.

Why had Draco implied that she wouldn't enjoy his card this round? He sang wonderfully! His voice was a clear tenor, clearly untrained, but with solid potential. And his selection... was it true, or was it just a song he happened to know?

A beautiful ache began behind her ribs, intensifying with every word.

_**Like a river flows surely to the sea,  
darling so it goes:  
some things are meant to be.**_

He whispered that last bit in her ear, causing her body to give a shudder in rising desire.

_**Take my hand, and take my whole life, too.  
For I... I can't help falling in love with you.**_

He pressed gentle kisses over her cheeks as he paused before the song's refrain.

_**Like a river flows surely to the sea,  
darling so it goes:  
some things are meant to be.**_

To her astonishment, her vision blurred as tears flooded her eyes.

Draco kissed the tip of her nose and stared into her eyes as he finished.

_**Take my hand, and take my whole life, too.  
For I can't help falling in love with you.**_

_**For I can't help falling in love with you.**_

There was a bit of silence after he finished.

In truth, Hermione's heart and mind were too twisted up with an abundance of conflicting emotion to respond to his performance. Within her, optimism warred with wariness, happiness with trepidation. She couldn't seem to settle on any one feeling for too long, her concerns flipping through them, filling her mind with questions. Was this really happening? Did he truly feel such things for her, or were these feelings merely a result of the game's suspected magical influence? Could she trust this wasn't some elaborate ruse concocted in advance to bring her low, or was this connection between them was real? Was she a fool for hoping so much?

"That was… quite lovely," she said for the sake of filling the growing awkwardness, her voice a small whisper in the small space separating their lips.

At first, Draco seemed a tad surprised by her remark, but then a slow, sly smirk crept up his cheek. "So, the performance was adequate enough for Your Highness' refined musical tastes?" he teased.

She gave him a small tap on the arm in admonishment. "I'm being serious, you prat. It really was quite splendid!" she contended with all sincerity. "I'm very impressed, Draco. I never guessed you had such a striking voice."

His amusement slipped as he studied her. "Sod the delivery… did you like the song selection?"

Solemnly, Hermione nodded. "Very much." She took a deep breath and plunged ahead with the one question that had been banging around behind her skull since the first stanza of the song had begun. "Do you mean it, though?"

He met her gaze without flinching as he dropped his head and sealed his lips to hers for a tender kiss. His fingers caressed her cheeks as he dipped downward again and again to capture her mouth, pulling each of her reservations from her and opening her up to all possibilities for them.

"I mean everything I say, Granger," he murmured between gliding, smooth kisses.

He tasted good to her – warm and wet, sweet with a hint of naughty. His silky tongue teased hers to come out and play, and his teeth nipped at her, daring her to give up control again. She tried very hard not to be so easily coerced, but found it to be a quickly losing battle.

"But you didn't say it," she made the weak argument, even as she licked at his bottom lip. "Technically, you sang it."

He chuckled against her mouth, even as he kissed her. "Stubborn woman."

"Not stubborn - pragmatic," she countered.

Her breath hitched as he rubbed his fully aroused pelvis between her thighs, upping the ante.

"Then be _sensible_ and tell me directly what you want of me, Your Highness," he proposed. Trailing his lips over her jaw, he blew hot air against her most sensitive skin as he deviously meandered towards her ear. "Tell me and I'll do it. Anything you want."

"I... I can't think with you doing that," she said as his moist, warm tongue traced a provocative stroke over her pulse.

Placing his lips right against her ear, he whispered in a heated tone, "Command me, Hermione, to service you. Own me, as both of us want."

Cheeks flushed in excitement at his offer of complete surrender to her, Hermione pressed her mouth to his ear and gave him her final directive, as permitted by her _Deeds_ card: "Lie back on the bed and let me have my way with you, Draco."

He pulled away, meeting her enthusiastic expression with his own. His tongue made a final swipe over his lips. "Yes, Your Highness." Flipping off of her and onto his back, he lay in the middle of the mattress, and awaited her pleasure.

Sitting up and pulling her dress to above her knees, Hermione moved so that she straddled her partner's hips, but was careful not to sit upon him. Leaning over him in a position of dominance, seeing Draco Malfoy lying submissive and willing under her, gave her a sudden sense of power she hadn't felt before, at least not with any man. Her blood thrummed through her veins in a thrilling rush causing her body to heat.

Making quick work of his shirt, she had it pushed up and off of him, mussing his hair in the doing. She flung the cotton covering away to the side to reveal his tight abs and small, pale pink nipples. She caressed him, re-familiarizing herself with this part of his anatomy, loving the way the muscle underneath her fingertips jumped at her touch.

Skimming back down his belly, with nimble movements she released his belt, popped the button on his trousers, and unzipped them. Shimmying downwards, she pulled his white, cotton slacks to below his knees, and with careful manoeuvering, his briefs followed.

Even as she watched, his cock hardened to full prominence within half a minute, growing from half-erect to fully aroused, and all without physical touch to stimulate him. _Let's hear it for Restorative Potions_, she thought, knowing that without that pick-me-up from earlier, he'd most likely be much too exhausted to do this again after the last two rounds-worth of action.

Enthralled by something she'd never actually taken the time to observe before Hermione stared with rapt attention as blood flowed into his shaft, causing the skin to stretch and go taut. As the formerly relaxed member lifted off his inner thigh with an increasing vitality of its own, it swelled as well, becoming longer, thicker.

Draco's breathing accelerated, his tight belly expanding with each deep breath as he rose to full mast. A small, pleasure-filled groan escaped his lips as the head of him finally came to rest just under the level of his bellybutton, extended as far as it could go.

With a single, deft stroke delivered by her thumb to the underside of his length, the darker-coloured crown emerged from its hood. She stroked over it again and again, pulling it back, fully revealing the tip of his penis.

Her mouth watered to taste him. She'd held off on that desire for the last two rounds, feeling the timing just wasn't right. Now, though, she wasn't going to wait any longer.

Lifting him in a firm fist, she slowly pumped over his magnificent arousal once, twice... and then lowered her mouth to the plump, already damp head. With a sweeping, thorough lick, she bathed him with her saliva, coating him with a layer of wetness at the same time as sampling his essence. Salt and the very slight tang of masculine bitterness crossed her taste buds, making her hungry for more.

Wrapping her lips tightly around his meaty, engorged flesh, she dropped down onto him, taking him as far back as was comfortable, before pulling up with strong suction.

Draco gasped and widened his legs, opening up for her, and she reached out to gently take his soft pouch into her palm, experimentally rolling it in her hand. He let out a loud moan as she set a pace up and down at the same time, sucking, slurping, and stroking him until he was straining his hips and pumping his pelvis in time to meet her downward thrusts.

Her jaw began to ache, but she ignored the discomfort, wholly focused on tasting him, building him up to a crescendo of want that would leave him shaking and desperate for her. She continually changed her tactics, alternating pressure and angle, speed and technique, working towards discovering that unique combination of tongue and lip and finger work that would drive him wild under her and make him lose all control.

Stroking the small swatch of skin under his bollocks had him thrusting upwards in reaction, sinking deep into her mouth. A feral growl escaped his throat, and he began a litany of expletives and coercing, and finally begging to get her to do it again. Peeking through her lips, she watched his sweaty features, red with lust and heat, twist in pleasure.

"Please," he beseeched, his hands gripping the coverlet in a white-knuckle grasp. "May I come?"

Hermione's whole body tightened up and the heady punch rush of absolute control hit her hard. Shaking as much as Draco was, she nodded around his cock, even as she took him as deep as she could manage.

His eyelids shuttered, his jaw clenched, and he strained as she increased her pace and suction, gliding up and down him now with the end game for them both her only purpose.

_Come apart for me, Draco_, she thought as she furiously suckled upon him, _as I do for you._

As if hearing her wish, her lover let out a loud, shattered cry, shoving his pelvis up one final time, arching so his backside was off the bed, and then he stiffened. His exclamation became a roar of relief and pleasure as hot streams of creamy semen pulsed into her mouth, drawn out of him in fiery bursts. Hermione struggled to swallow his seed down, continuing to pump her hand over him and grasp his sac in a firm hold to experience how his body released. She stroked over his perineum one last time, and he shuddered as a final spurt was drawn from him, even as he began lowering back down onto the mattress. Greedily, she sucked him until there was nothing left for him to give her.

With a final few swipes of her tongue, she cleaned him up, and then let him go, sitting back on her haunches to regain her breath.

Draco's entire body and demeanour reflected a thorough satisfaction. He still had his eyes closed, but his panting was beginning to slow. He was still very much red-faced, though. The attractive blush covered his throat and the top of his chest as well.

_I did that,_ she realized. _I owned him in every way._

His smile was slow and sincere as it transformed his face from that of a man's back into a boy's, and when he lifted his lids to stare at her with a lazy dragon-like contentment, Hermione realized again how very much she had fallen.

"I want you," she admitted, her implication greater than that of mere physical desire. "I've never wanted anything this much, and it frightens me. It's all happening so fast. Just last night, you and me… we weren't even friends, Draco. Now, the thought of this possibly not continuing once the game ends and the influence of the cards is broken, and we go back to our lives tomorrow-" She gripped the area over her heart in a tight fist, and choked over the suffocating emotions that rioted around inside her. "-it hurts. How can this be? It's not… rational."

He stared at her for a few moments in silence, contemplative and serious, his smile having completely disappeared. With a tired effort, he sat up, quickly shed his trousers and briefs, tossing them over the edge of the bed, and knelt before her, completely nude. Their knees touched, but nothing else.

"What can I say to make you believe that this isn't just a one-off for me, Hermione?" he asked, his hands clenched on his thighs, his face dark with exasperation. "What more do you want of me? Christ, I've behaved positively Gryffindor-ish tonight! My ancestors are probably rolling in their graves at how sickeningly honest and forthright I've been with you tonight. I've shared with you intimate details of my life, as well as some my darkest secrets. No one else knows me the way you now do. I've asked you to be my girlfriend, and to be my business partner. I've even given you a twenty-five percent share of the stock! And bloody hell, I've told you in at least a dozen different ways tonight that I love you, if you'd only paid attention."

Her head snapped up and her jaw dropped open. A small gasp escaped her lips, even as her heart began to pound fiercely under her breast.

He said it.

He'd _actually_ said it!

Draco seemed annoyed by her surprised reaction. "What do you think I've been trying to tell you all night? Why do you think I set up this ridiculous game to begin with? God, witch, you can be entirely too stubborn to see what's right in front of you sometimes!"

He reached out and gripped her arms, pulling them both up so their bodies pressed together, and dropped his mouth to hers to give her a blazing, almost punishing kiss. Everything in Hermione melted as he plundered her senses. All thoughts about the game, its possible influence upon them, and any other doubt that flitted through her head simply dissolved away under the warmth of his words and the heat of his touch.

"Is that clear enough for you?" he asked when he finally pulled his mouth away, his forehead pressed to hers, eyes locked on. "Or do you need further demonstration?"

Hermione licked her lips. "Say it again."

He stared into her eyes and tossed her a devastating, challenging grin. "You first, beautiful."

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed the entire length of her body against him. "Perhaps you should show me instead."

Against her, his erection slowly came to life once more. "As you command, Your Highness."

He lowered her to the bed, and this time, they both ignored the chimes when they went off.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Please review!**

FYI: no, I didn't forget that Hermione showed up in the last chapter, and yet that break wasn't shown here in this chapter. Patience, lovelies. There is method to the madness, and all will be revealed in time. ;)

The version of, "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You" for this chapter was sung by SOLaharl (that's how I hear Draco singing in my head anyway). Listen to it here: _www dot youtube dot com / watch?v=ktXTd7liZEI_

J.K. Rowling wrote 860 extra words on Pottermore regarding the Malfoy family's back history. You can read it here: pottermorespoilers . tumblr . com (click ARCHIVE and scroll down to JULY 2012 entries and click on "The Malfoy Family"). I used that information in this chapter when referencing the Malfoy Family's influence upon Queen Elizabeth I. For extra fun, she also wrote additional material specifically about Draco Malfoy in that same archive. You can find that information there as well.

**.**

**Musical selection for this chapter: "Adore" by Paramore. Lyrics are as follows...**

**.**

**_I don't mean to run,_**  
**_but every time you come around_**  
**_I feel more alive than ever,_**  
**_and I guess it's too much..._**

**_Maybe we're too young,_**  
**_and I don't even know what's real,_**  
**_but I know I never_**  
**_wanted anything so bad._**  
**_I've never wanted anyone so bad!_**

**_If I let you love me,_**  
**_be the one adored,_**  
**_would you go all the way?_**  
**_Be the one I'm looking for._**  
**_If I let you love me,_**  
**_be the one adored,_**  
**_would you go all the way?_**  
**_Be the one I'm looking for._**

**_Help me come back down;_**  
**_I'm high above the clouds._**  
**_You know I'm suffocating,_**  
**_but I blame this town._**

**_Why do I deny_**  
**_the things that burn inside?_**  
**_Down deep I'm barely breathing,_**  
**_but you just see a smile._**

**_And I don't wanna let this go._**  
**_Really I just want to know..._**

**_If I let you love me,_**  
**_be the one adored_**  
**_would you go all the way?_**  
**_Be the one I'm looking for._**  
**_If I let you love me,_**  
**_be the one adored,_**  
**_would you go all the way?_**  
**_Be the one I'm looking for._**


	55. Chapter 9D: Blaise & Ginny

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**Whiplashlarue **__recommended the song __**"Love Song" by Pink **__for Blaise & Ginny this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Ginny's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**Whiplashlarue**__ - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK (rzzmg yahoo . com)! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised! Here are some of the entries so far: s905 . photobucket albums / ac260 / RZZMG / Eros%20Psyche / CONTEST%20IMAGES /**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE (#4): Blaise & Ginny**

Well, it had certainly been a very exhausting, but very satisfying night as far as Ginny was concerned. She was officially ready to call the game done and over, and to stay here in this bed and sleep in Blaise's arms for a million years.

The only problem with that plan was her brain wasn't cooperating with the whole 'resting up' idea. It wouldn't shut off. It whirled over the night's revelations, storming through her brain, whipping her up into a state of restless anxiety. Her thoughts were a miniature hurricane in the making, and the repetitiveness was driving her spare: _Her parents had lied to her. She was a Sex-Witch. Blaise loved her. She'd revealed her darkest secrets to him. She'd fallen in love back. They were mated for life. The Ministry would watch them from now on. She was going to be considered a freak by society. Her parents had lied to her…_

That last was the biggest blow of all. Why hadn't her mum and dad told her what to expect, if they knew sex magic was passed through the females of their lines? Wouldn't they have even suspected Ginny could be a carrier? Had they really not intended on telling her? Merlin's beard and Circe's wand, what might have happened if she'd woken up on her seventeenth birthday, fully feral Veela and no one to explain things or guide her through it?

Visions of skeletal, dried-up mummies lying across her bed danced before her eyes.

Oh, Godric, she could have killed someone by draining the life right out of them! She _would_ have done, if not for Blaise helping her through her awakening. He'd been able to siphon energy from her even as she had taken from him. They'd balanced each other out, neither draining the other, equally feeding the need of their sexual hungers in a safe manner...

_Equal._

There was no doubt in her mind any longer: Blaise was her other half. He was her opposite in every way that counted. The male to her female. The Slytherin to her Gryffindor. The dark to her light.

And yet, they were so much alike in so many other, important and secret ways...

Peeking through her long, sooty lashes, she glanced up at Blaise. He was fast asleep and relaxed in a manner she'd never noted him to be when awake. In the two years she'd known him, prior to tonight, he'd always worn a sneer, a scowl, or an affected expression of boredom. Very rarely had she ever seen him smile or laugh in public; he was an intense, serious man in general. Yet now his jaw was slack, his lids fluttering as he dreamed, and the strain lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth were gone. He looked almost innocent and carefree. He seemed content and at peace.

In a roundabout sort of way, tonight's game had been responsible for his transformation, hadn't it? It was responsible for hers as well, and for bringing them together. It was strange to think that a handful of old magical cards could have such an impact on a person's life.

Blaise shifted slightly, and his hipbone pressed into Ginny's abdomen, making her suddenly, acutely aware of the need to pee once more. Gah! Honestly, she had a bladder the size of a Gobstone!

With a sigh, she extricated herself from her sleeping lover's embrace without waking him (it took some tricky manoeuvering, but she managed it with a few sly moves), and snuck out of bed. Once she was off the mattress and back on her feet, Blaise flipped over and burrowed his head into the pillow where she'd recently lain, making a discontented noise in his throat, as if he could sense she was missing.

Ginny stifled a giggle behind her hand. Godric, he was cute enough to nibble upon, wasn't he? "Be right back," she whispered and blew her lover an imaginary kiss.

Blaise let out a small snore and fidgeted a bit, but was soon breathing in an even, slow rhythm once more.

Taking one last, longing look at him in repose, with the dark line of his body only half-covered by the white sheet, the rest bared to the world without shame –_bless the Founders, but he was absolutely delicious, wasn't he?_– she tiptoed towards her discarded robe where it lay on the carpeted floor, and gathered it up. Wrapping it about her body to ward off the slight chill she felt, she quietly headed out the door into the main room.

The stone floor of the common area was cold to her toes, so she hurried through to the women's. Right as she entered the loo, she heard her brother and Pansy exit their private chamber, Ron growling about needing to be fed.

"-going to shag me to death, woman! I need my strength if you expect me to perform!"

The door to the loo closed behind her, cutting of that conversation, thank Merlin!

Quickly checking her face and hair in one of the mirrors over the sinks as she moved past _–she looked SO well-shagged!–_ Ginny randomly picked a stall in the middle of the row, untied her robe, and sat down to do her business. Her mid-section felt full enough to burst just then, so it was a relief when she could finally purge all that liquid.

Resting her elbows on her thighs, she cradled her face in her hands and let her mind go as free as the rest of her was currently doing...

Although Blaise hadn't had enough energy left for another round of sex this last time, her lover had instead put his talented fingers and tongue to good use. He'd used every trick in the book –the wiggling tongue, the circling clit tease, and the hard, long suck– to get her to the point of mewling and begging like a wanton slag (seriously, the man could make an eighty-year, devoted nun toss her vows!). Right as Ginny had been about to come, however, Harry had invaded their private sanctuary, and the moment had been abruptly lost.

Blaise had been furious! Lightning fast, he'd moved to shield Ginny's nudity with his bigger body (as if Harry hadn't seen her naked a time or two already!), and had emitted a possessive growl that had made the hair on the back of her nape stand on end.

Her ex may have had bad timing, but he'd certainly made up for it with quick thinking and tact. Beet-red in the face, Harry had quickly stepped back and slammed the door shut, making no comment whatsoever about catching them in a compromising position (as Ron would have done) and leaving them to it.

That had been the end of her fun time, unfortunately. Ginny's sex drive had abruptly flagged as she moved away from pleasure's sharp edge, and her lover had been astute enough to pick up on that fact. He'd rolled off her (with much grumbling under his breath about 'tearing Potter's eyes from his head'), and they'd squirmed into a comfortable resting embrace in the middle of the mattress, preparing for bed. It had taken Blaise mere seconds to fall asleep, snuggled against her under the sheets (why, oh why, couldn't shehave been born with the 'fall instantly to sleep after the sex is over' talent set? _Noooooo_, instead she'd been gifted with the 'energy-vampire from Hell' skill!).

Now, here she was in the loo, exhausted both mentally and physically, letting her body drain in an effort to keep from wetting the bed in her sleep - something she hadn't done since she was seven. It had been a really long night, and she was so completely ready for sleep.

Speaking of which... Stones, but she hadn't _that_ much to drink, had she? What had it been - one glass of water in eight hours? She must have one really fully bladder!

When the flood finally tapered off, she reached for some paper and wiped. A little more dribbled out of her, falling into the toilet, making a sporadic tinkling sound. She reached for more paper and wiped again. When she pulled her hand back, the tips of her fingers felt warm, almost sticky. She glanced down.

Blood.

She was bleeding, except it wasn't red blood, as she'd expect, but brownish in colour, like it would be on the first day of her period.

Huh.

Quickly, she counted the days in her head. No, she wasn't due to have her menses for another two weeks. So why was she bleeding now?

Alarmed, she pulled more paper off the roll and wiped again. She looked at it before tossing it down into the bowl. It was literally _soaked_ with blood, and this time, the colour was cherry red. There were also rather large-sized clots on the tissue.

Hand shaking, she reached for more paper and did it again, and again, and again... Bright red blood began leaking out of her in streams.

Oh, Circe! Why didn't it stop? What was happening? Had Blaise accidentally torn something inside of her? Had they been too rough in bed? She hadn't felt any discomfort when he'd been inside her, but with all of the funky aura stuff going on between them, it was possible she hadn't felt the damage when it had been dealt, too caught up in the pleasure.

For long minutes, she kept trying to staunch the flow of blood. Beneath her, the bowl filled up with red tissues. Before long, she ran out of paper.

Terrified, she stood up on wobbly knees and headed for the next stall over. A warm liquid trail dripped down the inside of one of her thighs, leaving a splattered mess on the floor behind her. She'd clean that later, once she'd gotten the bleeding stopped. Sitting down on the toilet seat, she started in on the next stall's bog roll, pulling and wiping continuously.

It had to be her period, right? Bad timing, but maybe it had something to do with her Sex-Witch side waking up early? Maybe that had thrown her body's internal clock off? It seemed plausible... Only she never bled this much all at once, even during her periods, which were rather awful to start. In fact, she couldn't recall a time she'd ever bled like _this._

When the cramping began, it wasn't horrible, but it was a bit sharper that she was used to tolerating.

Deciding she'd had enough, Ginny called for help. "Dobby, I need you," she summoned the house-elf, her voice choked with fear.

There was no crack of Apparition signalling the elf had heard and obeyed.

Ginny cleared her throat, and tried again. "Dobby, come to me," she commanded in a louder, firmer voice.

She waited, but there was no response.

Her panic abruptly gave way to the infamous Weasley anger, which burned hot and bright in her chest. "What the hell is going on?" she snarled. "Dobby, come here this instant!"

The elf did not appear, despite the third summons – which meant he either wouldn't come, or he couldn't come. Either way, no Dobby meant there was no easy way to get access to a pair of knickers and some cloth menstrual pads.

It meant that Ginny was entirely on her own. She was going to have to devise a plan to get back to the room she shared with Blaise, so she could have access to her wand.

Blast, if only she were as good as Hermione with wandless charms!

Hermione...

_W.W.H.D?_

First, Ginny knew, her best friend wouldn't panic so easily. Hermione was great under pressure. She channelled some of her friend's level-headedness, taking a deep breath and letting it out nice and slow to regain a bit of internal calm. Stubbornly, she ignored the tinkling sound below her, too; she knew what it meant, but freaking over the little river she was currently bleeding out wouldn't help one bit.

Second, Hermione would use what was available to her to create a temporary solution to the problem. Ginny glanced around. Well, there was plenty of bog paper... She formulated a quick plan in her head.

Wadding up some loo paper, she winced and groaned in protest at the nasty idea she was about to put into play, and then took a deep breath and got to it. Drastic times called for drastic measures, she figured, and if one didn't have a sewing kit handy, a plaster would work in a jiff. She shoved the bundled paper up inside her body to try to contain the bleeding, then pulled the edges of her robe together, and hurried out of the loo to her own room, keeping her thighs together as much as possible as she fast-walked the distance.

The moment she got back inside her own room, she grabbed her wand and conjured from the bed linens a pair of cotton knickers and a thick cloth menstrual pad to line the crotch. She then _Evanesco_'d the tissue between her legs and used a Cleansing Charm to wipe the blood from her skin.

Blaise woke up right as she sat on the edge of the bed, trying to fend off a sudden, unexpected dizzy spell. "What's going on?" he asked around a lazy yawn, stretching. "Where'd you go, my lioness?" His tone changed an instant later, as he came fully awake and alert. "Why is there blood on the hem of your robe?" He fingered the bloody stain on the white terry cloth's edging. "Are you hurt? What happened?" He tilted her chin up and turned her head, forcing her to meet his eye. "Tell me."

Ginny shook off the uncomfortable wooziness and shrugged. "I got my period."

Blaise frowned. "Your- Er, was it due to come this weekend?"

Slowly, she shook her head, feeling unaccountably awkward discussing the topic with Blaise. It was silly to be so self-conscious of a natural, uncontrollable body function, right? Like passing gas, a menstrual cycle just happened. Every woman on the planet experienced the same thing, so why did it feel so weird talking about it? Why was she suddenly so very hesitant to discuss the matter, as if it were too private a thing to share?

"It's... um... two weeks early."

Blaise considered that fact with a frown. "I wonder if the early awakening of your powers didn't throw you off."

"That was my guess, too," she admitted.

Blaise's arms came around her and he pulled her in tight to his chest. Resting his hands on her abdomen, he rubbed gentle circles over her skin, transferring heat and comfort. "Are you cramping?"

Ginny nodded. "Now, yeah."

"Does this help?" he asked, rubbing a little faster.

She nodded again.

Blaise pressed a small kiss to her temple and nuzzled her throat. "Ginevra, are you alright? You're not saying much. I never pictured you as the silent, grumpy type."

Neither did she. In fact, she tended to be a woman with a hex ready and waiting on the tip of her tongue throughout the week of her periods, and everyone knew to stay well out of her way during that time. Right now though, all she felt was ill-sorted, unsure, and weirdly awkward, like some young teenage girl experiencing her first bleeding. It was doubly uncomfortable speaking to a man about it.

What was wrong with her? This was not like her at all. She was acting all girly, like... like Tracey Davis, or something.

"I... I'm embarrassed telling you about it."

"Why? It's a normal, natural thing for a woman," Blaise reassured her.

She cuddled into him, feeling strangely vulnerable. "I know. It's just... I can't explain it. I went to the loo, thinking I had to, you know, pee. But it wasn't just that. I was bleeding, a lot - more than usual. All that blood..."

A strong cramp passed through her mid-section just then, causing her to hiss and tense up. Another followed directly on its heels, and she pulled away from Blaise, hunching in on herself as the pain continued.

"Ow. Owwwww!" she cried, wrapping her arms around her mid-section.

There was another rush of fluid between her legs, and she knew she was bleeding again. It was worse than before, though. The cloth pad between her legs suddenly felt too damp, as if it had absorbed all it could take.

"Ginevra?" Blaise sounded a bit panicked. "What's happening? Talk to me."

Another pain-filled wave rolled over her, and Ginny collapsed to the mattress, scrunching up into a foetal position. A sharp sob escaped her lips. "It _hurts!"_

Blaise was on his feet in a microsecond, reaching for his discarded wand and his robe, donning it. He sucked air in between his teeth, and cast a _Scourgify_ upon her. "You're bleeding everywhere. Can I move you?" he asked, reaching for her. "I want to take you to the Hospital Wing."

Tears rolled down her cheeks as the pain intensified. "Move me! Just... please, do something!" she begged as the cramps intensified.

"Hold on, kitten," he said, gathering her up into his arms and cradling her to him. "I'm getting you help."

The chimes above rang out, letting them know it was the end of this action round.

Ginny turned her face into Blaise's neck and held onto him for dear life as he hurried them out of their room, managing to get the door open with a negligent wave of his wand and a non-verbal charm.

Seamus and Lavender had come out of their private room at the same time as Blaise rushed Ginny through the common area. "Holy shite," Seamus swore, just as another pain-searing cramp overtook Ginny and she screamed into Blaise's shoulder. Another gush of wet flowed from between her legs. "Wha's wrong wit' her? Is tha' blood? Where did all tha' blood come from?"

Lavender hurried over. "Oh, Godric! Blaise, take her to Madam Pomfrey right now! Sea, go with him, just in case."

"Hurry," Ginny whispered to her fiancé as the pain briefly lulled.

Blaise tightened his hold on her. "I will, love."

He took three steps, and abruptly stopped.

"Where's the door?"

Panting, Ginny looked up and over, noting that the solid grey stone of the wall had no break in it whatsoever. The wooden door they'd walked through at the start of the game was gone.

"Wasn't it right here?" Blaise demanded. "Where'd it go?"

"Maybe it goes away if it's not used," Seamus suggested, sounding slightly panicked. "I'll ask the room for another one." He walked back and forth in front of the wall three times as required, making a silent request for a door that would lead back into Hogwarts.

There was no change.

Swearing, he tried it again with the same results.

Blaise shifted. "Let me try. Maybe it has something to do with need."

Ginny held on, feeling light-headed as Blaise walked in quiet desperation up and back, up and back, up and back.

No door appeared in the wall. It remained solid stone.

"What the fuck is going on?" he raged. "Where's the goddamned door?"

"What's tha' house-elf's name?" Seamus asked. "He can Apparate in and out o' here without a door."

Ginny took a deep breath, feeling another cramp roll her in pain. Thankfully, it was much less intense than the last. "D-Dobby. He didn't come w-when I called earlier."

Blaise summoned Dobby, repeatedly. The elf didn't appear.

"Try your wands," Blaise instructed Ginny's Housemates, stepping back far enough to avoid potential backlash from spells. "Any spell you can think of to break through." He cast a _Protego_ around himself and Ginny and moved them far enough away from any potential shrapnel.

Seamus and Lavender attacked the wall with fervour, unleashing an assortment of spells.

_"Dissendium," _Lavender called out.

_"Deprimo," _Seamus chased her spell with his own.

_"Confringo,"_ she countered.

_"Bombarda Maxima."_

_"Incendio."_

_"Defodio."_

_"Expulso."_

_"Deletrius."_

The two went on and on for some time, getting desperate enough to even try disintegrating the wall with _"Reducto,"_ vanishing the wall with _"Evanesco"_, and even cast a _"Finite Incantatum"_ on the entire room, all to no effect.

"What. The. Fuck!" Seamus panted in fury. He was clearly spooked, and wasn't handling the situation well. "No door. No elf. No sodding way out!"

Ginny heard all of it, and felt a shiver of dread chase up her spine. It was the same sensation as she'd felt at the start of all of this when she'd first spied the game's cards in Malfoy's hands, back in the alcove yesterday. She gripped Blaise tighter and could only whimper as another spasm gripped her womb.

Blaise kissed her forehead and held her close. "Don't worry, kitten. We'll find a way out. We'll get you to Pomfrey soon. Just hang onto me."

Too exhausted to reply, she laid her head back down on Blaise's shoulder and closed her eyes. As she was pulled into unconsciousness, her last thought was that her body and mind had finally run themselves out.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Hmmm, Hermione didn't show up in the loo from Ginny's perspective, and yet Ron and Pansy had seen her walk through into the women's during their action round. What do you think **_**that **_**means? Review and let me know your guesses!**

.

**"Dissendium" = Spell that opens secret passages. Canon.**

**"Deprimo" = Spell that places a downward pressure on an object to fracture it. Canon.**

**"Confringo" = Blasting spell. Canon.**

**"Bombarda Maxima" = Blasting spell at maximum-strength. Canon.**

**"Incendio" = Fiery Explosion spell. Canon.**

**"Defodio" = Gouging spell. Canon.**

**"Expulso" = Spell that uses an invisible magical force to push on an object to provoke an explosion backwards. Canon.**

**"Deletrius" = Disintegration spell. Canon.**

**"Reducto" = Spell that reduces a thing to dust particles. Canon.**

**"Evanesco" = Vanishing spell. Canon.**

**"Finite Incantatum" = Charm to end spell effects. Canon.**

**.**

**Musical selection for this chapter: "Love Song" by Pink. Lyrics are as follows...**

_**I've never written a love song  
that didn't end in tears.  
Maybe you'll rewrite my love song,  
if you can replace my fears.**_

_**I need your patience and guidance,  
and all your lovin' and more.  
When thunder rolls through my life,  
will you be able to weather the storm?**_

_**There's so much I would give ya, baby,  
if I'd only let myself.  
There's this well of emotions  
I feel I must protect.**_

_**But what's the point of this armor  
if it keeps the love away, too?  
I'd rather bleed with cuts of love  
than live without any scars.**_

_**Baby, can I trust this,  
or do all things end?  
I need to hear that you'd die for me...  
again and again and again.  
So tell me when you look in my eyes:  
can you share all the pain and happy times?  
'Cause I will love you for the rest of my life.**_

_**This is my very first love song  
that didn't end in tears.  
I think you re-wrote my love song  
for the rest of my years.**_

_**I will love you for the rest of my life.**_


	56. Chapter 9E: Harry & Tracey

_**CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: **__User __**TiffanyDays **__recommended the song __**"Love Me Like A River Does" by Melody Gardot **__for Harry & Tracey this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Tracey's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to __**TiffanyDays**__ - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen._

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. **SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK (rzzmg yahoo . com)! I'll pick my favourites, and reward you, as promised! Here are some of the entries so far: s905 . photobucket albums / ac260 / RZZMG / Eros%20Psyche / CONTEST%20IMAGES /**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE (#5): Harry & Tracey**

Harry led Tracey by the hand to their private room. She followed after him, a little tense with anticipation after their whispered conversation by the sofa:

_"Say the word and I'll forfeit right now,"_ he'd offered, even as she'd finished casting the C&DC on herself.

_"Why would I want you to do that?"_ she'd asked in a voice as quiet as his.

Honestly, it didn't take a genius to determine which card her boyfriend had just drawn for this action round, and although she was a little nervous at what awaited her behind the door of their private chamber, it certainly wasn't enough to scare her away from what was coming. She'd been looking forward to this opportunity for years, and there was simply no way she was passing it up.

"_No matter what our cards require of us this time, I don't want to forfeit,"_ she'd told him.

_"My card says we have to have sex." _He'd kissed her lobe, a butterfly's brush against her skin. _"We don't have to, though, if you're not ready. Tell me 'no' and I'll quit. We can wait to do this. There's no rush."_

_"Do you want to do it?"_ she'd asked, gazing into his eyes, seeking the truth.

He'd stared at her for several seconds in silence, before finally nodding once. _"Yeah, I do."_

_"Me, too,"_ she'd admitted.

Her confirmation had ended the discussion. He'd taken her by the hand then and led her towards their room, and that had been that.

Now he stopped in front of the door, putting his hand on it, concentrating as he willed the inside to transform as his imagination dictated. "That should do it," he said after a few moments, and turned to her. "Ready?"

Eagerly, Tracey nodded. "More than."

He opened the door, and pulled her before him so she would enter the room first.

The sweet, lovely smell of roses perfumed the air. That was what she noticed initially, but when she looked up…

"Oh, Harry!"

Purple, long-stemmed roses in a variety of shades, from royal to lavender, were artfully placed all around a King-sized bed with white and silver bedding. Candlelight set the mood, casting a soft nimbus around everything. It was the most romantic room she'd ever seen.

It was perfect.

Harry shut the door behind them, and guided her further into the room. In mid-step, he turned about and took both her hands in his. Tugging gently on them, he drew her towards the bed… towards her destiny.

Her heart pounding hard under her ribs, Tracey followed his lead. She'd allow him to guide her, as he was the one with the experience.

They stopped beside the bed, and he took her in his arms. His mouth dipped down and their lips glided together, naturally warm and sweet, like morning honeyed tea. His kiss was comfortable, becoming a familiarity that set her mind at ease. Tracey relaxed into his embrace, enjoying his affection.

His sneaky fingers smoothed along her arms, circling her neck, and craftily undid the button of her halter. Slowly, he removed the fabric strips, and then he worked on her bra clasp. One hook at a time, Harry released her from her binding, freeing her. When it was undone, he slipped the straps from her arms and pulled them away to reveal her breasts.

His breathing accelerated, and a soft, _'uhn'_ passed from his mouth into hers as his kiss became more passionate. Palming and kneading her heavy, tender breasts, he teased her nipples into prominence with gentle plucking. His thumbs rubbing them in circles between each light pinch to ease the pleasurable ache he coaxed into life.

Clinging to his shoulders, digging in her nails, Tracey threw her head back and let his mouth wander across her skin. He nipped her pulse, and kissed a trail downwards to her breasts. Gentle licking alternated with suckling, until her nipples were swollen and the heat between her legs became unbearable.

"Harry," she mewled, begging him for more, for everything.

He turned his attention to the other breast, giving it equal devotion, and Tracey's head spun as her blood pounded through her veins. She arched her spine, thrusting her breast even deeper into his mouth, feeling dizzy with need.

_"Harry,"_ she demanded, a little more urgent, a little less patient. "Please!"

A dark chuckle rumbled though him, and he obeyed, slipping his hands around her to begin tugging the zip down on her dress. He was slow, methodical, careful as he brought it down, and when it hit its end, he slipped her dress off her hips and let it pool at her feet.

With a last kiss to her nipple, he dropped to his knees before her, letting his mouth follow a path down her abdomen. He dipped his tongue into her bellybutton, making her giggle. His smile was wide against her flesh, as he took amusement from teasing her.

Tracey ran her fingernails through his hair, gently scraping his scalp, and Harry moaned in delight. He nuzzled the top of her mound through her knickers, and inhaled with an agreeable sigh. Fitting his thumbs under the waist band, he began to tug the silky garment down her hips, away from her body. As her pubis came into view, he licked through her damp folds, slow and thorough with each lap.

"So good," he whispered, delving in for more of a taste.

"So good," Tracey murmured back, angling her pelvis forward to give him a better angle.

The silk of her panties skimmed her calves as he continued pulling them down, and then he lifted her ankles and slid them off completely. He glanced up at her with hunger. "Lay back on the edge of the bed."

She did as he wanted, her legs dangling off the end. The white ceiling far above was charmed to appear as fluffy, rolling clouds, and Tracey was mesmerized by their movement as Harry bent each of her knees upwards, and undid her shoes, removing them from her feet. He kissed his way up her ankle to her knee on one side, and then unexpectedly stood up and leaned over her, pressing his palms into either side of the mattress beside her.

"Are you comfortable with everything we've done so far?" he asked, clearly still concerned that they were rushing.

"Yes, I am," she told him, reaching up and letting her fingertips slide over his jaw. "I'm a little nervous, I admit, but it's mostly because I just want this with you so much."

"Want me to slow it down?"

Tracey shook her head.

He bent his head and ghosted his mouth over the pinkish, thin skin of her bottom lip. "I wanna make this so good for you. Unforgettable."

"You are," she gasped as he dipped his head towards the bend in her neck, and licked and bit her gently over her pulse. The soft glide of his mouth over her throat made her tingle from head to toe. She whimpered and squirmed as the hem of his un-tucked, cotton shirt skimmed across her belly, adding to all of the overwhelming sensations.

"Relax," he whispered. He licked very lightly over her tiny earlobe, nipping it with gentle pressure. "I'll be gentle, honey. Promise."

Tracey's breath caught and her long lashes fluttered as a sweet languidness overtook her limbs. "I trust you," she reassured him and let her muscles go loose under his ministrations.

He pressed sucking kisses over each nipple once, before regaining his full height and unbuttoning his shirt, beginning to disrobe. Tracey watched through a half-lidded gaze as he slipped each button from its hole.

"Touch yourself," he bid in a dark, hungry whisper. "Cup your breasts. Play with your nipples for me."

Harry empowered her through his love and desire for her, and Tracey borrowed once more from his stash of bravery to evolve and become more than she'd ever thought possible. Between one breath and the next she changed, adopting the mantle of the sensual goddess, just as she had when she'd earlier danced for him. She became a sexy and wanton creature who was unafraid to explore. Her hands roamed the length of her body, sliding up her long torso to mould and stroke her breasts. She pinched and pulled her nipples until they were taut and tender, and when her boyfriend asked her to lift and spread her legs and caress her pussy, she did so without a moment's hesitation.

Under Harry's heated, mesmerised gaze, she felt wicked and wild, and it was so liberating! The best part was his reaction, though.

His shirt was divested in a quick moment, his belt was undone, and his trousers taken down with an almost frantic eagerness seconds after that. Totally entranced by the show she put on for him, her nimble fingers dancing across her wet flesh, he absently shucked his shoes and the remainder of his clothing with haste, his gaze glued to the naughty occupation of her hands.

When he was fully naked, he gripped his cock and stroked it several times, continuing to watch her. He nodded for her to scoot back to lie in the middle of the large, fluffy white duvet and Tracey excitedly complied. When she lay back again, her long, blonde locks surrounded her like a halo, tickling the back of her neck.

Harry gazed at her with wonderment. "Look at you. You're like an angel," he whispered. His eyes followed the length of her naked form, lingering over her tight nipples, and again at the patch of darker blonde hair between her legs. "And I'm like this randy devil, with all of these wicked thoughts," he teased with a small smile.

His joking relaxed her a bit, made her feel closer to him. He was nervous, too, she suddenly realised.

Lifting her arms, she indicated she wanted him to hurry into her embrace. His erection bobbed as he crawled up her body to the apex of her thighs and enticed her to spread her legs wider. Thighs quivering with anticipation, she opened up for him, allowing him an unimpeded view of her pretty innocence once more.

His mouth was sinfully hot as it pressed between her slit, his tongue a thing of temptation as it licked a path straight up, and then circled around her clitoris.

"Oh, God," she gasped, once more reaching for his hair and holding on. "That's… yes, Harry, don't stop!"

Latching onto the small, quivering flesh, he moaned in pleasure as he began to suck, and the vibration shot straight through Tracey's core. She arched her spine unconsciously, thrusting her breasts into the air. They ached to be touched again. "Oh, Harry!" she cried, releasing his hair and slipping her nipples between her thumb and forefingers and rolling them. She felt cherished and sexy at once, _alive_ under his care, as he lapped over her most sacred place.

His tongue entered her, curling upward, stroking over that one spot on the upper inside… Her restless body reacted immediately, tumbling her over the cliff into ecstasy without warning. A soft cry and a full-body shudder were drawn from her as a warm wave of intense pleasure flowed over her magical aura. Every inch of her skin flushed, and every nerve tingled. It was a sweet bringing, not devastating in its passing, but a temperate, rolling contentment that left her feeling blissfully relaxed.

Feeling liquid and loose from head to toe, Tracey practically melted into the mattress, feeling the blissful high from her climax. Between her legs, Harry lapped up the cream of her release. When he'd had his fill, placing a last, reverent kiss upon her wet lower lips, he crawled up her body until their mouths were even.

"You're ready," he whispered as he went in for a kiss.

Feeling the gentle buzz of her small endorphin rush, Tracey's head felt fuzzy as she nodded in confirmation. "I'm ready."

Dropping his lower body between her legs, he mounted her and lightly rubbed their parts together until he was slicked with her juices.

Leaning all his weight on one palm, he reached between them to grip his shaft and dipped his hips so the wide crest of him teased her opening. His gaze never left hers, though, and he held it as he pressed in. "You're so beautiful, Tracey. You steal my breath and make my heart pound," he admitted in a low, quiet tone. "I want so much to make you happy."

It took a bit of effort, but she managed to fight off her lethargy, curling her arms around his neck, and instinctually raising her hips to meet him.

"You do," she admitted in an equally tremulous voice. "I love you so much, Harry."

He dropped his mouth once more to hers and captured her lips in a sweet kiss.

"I love you, too, my honey," he murmured against her lips, and surged forward into the moist heart of her an inch, then two.

Tracey had expected a sharp, painful pinch, as she'd heard it described by others. This, however, was not that. It was only mildly uncomfortable as he opened her up, moving so slowly, so carefully that there was no real pain involved. Her hips ached a bit as he moved deeper into her and she had to adjust them to fit his bigger body in between, but when he was all the way inside at last, it felt… glorious.

"Oh," she murmured, glancing up at him as he paused, fully sheathed within her and waiting for her reaction. "That… that feels nice."

His green eyes practically glowed with relief… and masculine pride.

"It doesn't hurt?" he asked anyway, and she knew he needed a little reassurance regarding her pain levels. Harry was nothing if not considerate and conscientious of others, and especially of her.

"You feel… thick and heavy inside me," she admitted. "I'm a bit stretched, but it's all right. You prepared me, and I think all the dancing I do… I've heard being active helps for a girl's first time."

He brushed stands of her hair off her forehead. "I'm glad it isn't painful. Tell me when you want me to move."

"Okay."

She wiggled a bit, getting used to the sensation of his body inside hers, connecting them as intimately as two people could come together. Harry groaned and his lashes fluttered as he shut them, and she could sense him attempting to remain in rigid control as she took her time adjusting to the feelings. A muscle in his jaw ticked as she circled her hips once, trying to loosen up and relax, as he'd earlier suggested.

"How does it feel for you?" she asked, curious.

Harry let out a small panting shudder. "Warm, wet. You're the softest thing I've ever felt. You're holding me so tight, though, and when you move… it feels like this." He dropped his head and gently suckled upon her nipple, drawing it into his mouth and rolling his tongue over it.

Electricity ran the length of Tracey's spine, and a heated desire pooled in her womb.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed, running her fingers through his dark hair. "It feels wonderful. I want more. Move, please! Make love to me now."

His lips found hers again. "Tell me if you need me to stop or go slower," he murmured, as he slowly pulled his hips back and then brought them forward in a smooth glide. "We can rest as much as you need."

Tracey nodded, and he began in earnest teaching her the beauty of sex.

Keeping a steady, easy pace, he took her as no one had before… or would ever again. He loved her so thoroughly, so sweetly that Tracey's head was swimming from the sensations. His mouth sampled everything it could reach – claiming her lips and her tongue, peppering light kisses along the bottom of her jaw, nibbling over her throat's pulse and her earlobe, sucking upon her fingers, lapping the thin skin of her wrists and in the bend of her elbow, and drawing upon her sensitive breasts. His hands caressed over the same spots, tickling and inciting her lust. Throughout it all, his hips never stopped, weaving her desire as he wished, coaxing her to come undone for him.

Her thighs trembled as she peaked again when he swiped a clever thumb against her clit and thrust with the perfect pressure. That time, she cried out her pleasure against his chest, and he paused to hold and soothe her while her heartbeat slowed.

Harry continued to make love to her, his level of control and stamina a blessing. With a pull of muscle, he had her up into his lap as he sat upright at the same time. "Okay?" he asked, making sure she settled back onto him without pain.

Tracey nodded. She was eager to try it this way, too, to see if it were possible for her to climax one more time. Her hips were a bit sore, true, but the excitement of new discovery overrode any real discomfort. "I'm fine. Don't stop."

Hands on her hips, he began teaching her how to move so they both found pleasure in the new position. He guided, indulged her whims, and they both enjoyed the training very much. Tracey rocked up and down on him, fond of the new angle not only for the lovely way it perfectly stimulated her arousal, but also because of the way Harry stared up at her as she came down on him. There was such adoration in his gaze that it filled her heart with an almost painful joy.

"I love you," she whispered, "more than the world."

"I love you more than the stars," he replied.

Tears of sheer happiness pricked her eyes. From the age of eleven, she'd waited, hoped, and prayed for Harry Potter to feel this way about her, and now her greatest dream had come true. She'd given him all of her firsts, just as she'd dreamed for years. What had she ever done to deserve such a wonderful blessing?

Their love making became more urgent then. A multitude of tiny shivers licked her body at various points as she sped up, and Harry wrapped his hands around her long hair and held on, murmuring to her to slow down so she didn't drive herself too hard. "Gentle, honey. You'll hurt later if you're too feisty this first time."

She smiled against his lips. "No one's ever called me 'feisty' before."

He chuckled. "You're definitely that and more." He tucked some of her hair behind an ear. "You're everything I could ever want."

They locked eyes and watched each other as she continued to glide over his long, thick length. Always, Harry was careful never to pound up into her, but rather to assure her utmost comfort. Sweat dripped off his brow, and his face was pink with his exertions. His thigh muscles shook as he struggled to hold back his orgasm, and Tracey knew it was because he wanted her to experience one more climax first. She wanted to feel his part, however. She wanted to see his face as he came undone, and to feel his body strain, and to hear his moans.

Digging her nails into his shoulders, she pressed her forehead to his and insisted, "I want to feel you come in me, Harry. I want it _so_ much."

"God," he gasped, sounding a bit tortured, driven almost. "I… I will. I can't stop now."

Staving off her own need for release, she focussed completely on her lover's pleasure, encouraging him with cries of 'yes!' as his lower body tensed and his upward thrusts began to punctuate his moans - still not pounding, but _surging_ into her with desperation and need. She met him with equal wildness, giving him permission to let go.

He did with a final thrust, holding still deep inside her as his body jerked and he threw his head back. He roared his pleasure as he came.

For her part, Tracey could feel him twitch as he emptied himself inside her, followed by a flood of warmth and wetness. Her inside was quickly filled with his heat and life.

"I feel you," she whispered against his cheek. "I feel all of you."

When his body stopped jerking, he carefully tilted them so she was on her back again. He lay on top of her, a comforting, heavy weight. "Give me… a sec," he panted, his sweaty brow pillowed by her breasts. "So nice here."

Tracey giggled, and ran her fingers through his damp hairline, easing him with gentle touches. "Stay as long as you want," she offered, enjoying the afterglow.

They remained like that for several minutes, until his breathing evened out. Rolling them onto their sides, he slid out of her, but held on, wrapping his arms around her.

"Okay?"

Tracey nodded. "More than." She sighed contentedly. "It was beautiful, Harry. Everything I'd ever dreamed." She tilted her head up and kissed him. "Thank you so much."

He let out a sigh of relief. "I'm glad and honoured." He tilted his chin down so he could meet her eye again. "Thank you for trusting me with this. I needed to do this right for both of us."

She smiled at him, an idea coming to her out of the blue. "You did. It was… unforgettable."

Directing a thought to the room, Tracey requested the song they'd first danced to last night to softly begin overhead, the smooth jazz trumpet and piano hailing its start.

Harry recognised the song intro and quietly laughed at the in-joke. Then, he pulled the downy, white bedspread over them, making sure they were both covered, settling them down for sleep. With a thought of his own, Harry dimmed the candlelight, until it was a barely-there glow surrounding them, and they snuggled close, every point of their bodies touching.

From out of the darkness, Nat King Cole crooned a love song to them…

**_Unforgettable… that's what you are._**  
**_Unforgettable… though near or far._**

**_Like a song of love that clings to me,_**  
**_How the thought of you does things to me._**

**_Never before has someone been more…_**  
**_Unforgettable… in every way._**  
**_And forever more… that's how you'll stay._**

**_That's why darling it's incredible,_**  
**_That someone so unforgettable,_**  
**_Thinks that I am unforgettable, too._**

"I forfeit," Tracey whispered as the tune came to a close.

"Me, too," Harry agreed.

"Good," they both said at the same time, chuckling at their synchronicity.

Tracey suddenly realised that with her forfeit, Slytherin was now tied with Gryffindor in the game–assuming no one else forfeited this round–but at the moment _Eros & Psyche_ seemed of little consequence to her. All that mattered was she was finally in Harry's arms, and as good Mister Cole had so recently suggested, this was where she'd like to stay.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Please review!**

.

**Musical selection for this chapter: "Love Me Like A River Does" by Melody Gardot. Lyrics are as follows...**

_**Love me like a river does...**_  
_**Cross the sea.**_  
_**Love me like a river does...**_  
_**Endlessly.**_  
_**Love me like a river does...**_  
_**Baby, don't rush, you're no waterfall...**_  
_**Love me, that is all.**_

_**Love me like a roaring sea...**_  
_**Swirls about.**_  
_**Love me like a roaring sea...**_  
_**Wash me out.**_  
_**Love me like a roaring sea...**_  
_**Baby, don't rush, you're no waterfall...**_  
_**Love me, that is all.**_

_**Love me like the earth itself...**_  
_**Spins around.**_  
_**Love me like the earth itself...**_  
_**Sky above, below the ground.**_  
_**Love me like the earth itself...**_  
_**Baby, don't rush, you're no waterfall...**_  
_**Love me, that is all.**_


End file.
